


Winter Eclipse

by StoriesbyReese



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Captain America Peggy Carter, Captain Britain Peggy Carter, F/F, Homosexuality, What-If, Winter Soldier Angie Martinelli, captain peggy carter, same sex relationships, vintage lesbians, war time romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 74,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27285799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyReese/pseuds/StoriesbyReese
Summary: What If.... Peggy Carter was the one who went through Project Rebirth and became Cap.What If.... Angie Martinelli had served in the war.What If.... Howard and Steve had started SHIELD in Peggy's name.This is the story of how things would have played out if Peggy had been given the serum and become Captain Britain. And if Angie had joined the war, meeting Peggy, becoming apart of Peggy's world, and then ending up as the Winter Soldier. How would Peggy handle the MCU differently? What would the events of the MCU look like if Peggy were Cap instead of Steve? Let's find out, shall we?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter & Angie Martinelli & Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes & Howard Stark, Peggy Carter & Howard Stark, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Peggy Cater & Avengers Team
Comments: 41
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

Margaret Elizabeth Carter was an unusual girl growing up. She had no interest in playing dress up with large hats and lacy gloves and having tea parties with her tortoiseshell colored cat and her favorite dolly. She much preferred saving her doll from Alice, her cat, who played the role of dragon quite well if one were to ask Margaret. Margaret, or Peggy as she was most often called, played the knight in shining armor riding in on her stick horse to save the damsel in distress. It was never the other way around, Peggy Carter was no damsel, and she could get herself out of any distress. While the other girls her age in her hometown of Hampstead were learning etiquette and household skills, Peggy was challenging her brother Michael’s friends on the football or cricket pitch. While the other girls in her school were cooing over how cute Michael and his friends were, eyeing the boys of Hampstead for husbands, Peggy was trying not to look at Clara Thomson in the same way Clara Thomson looked at Michael. 

“Honestly, Margaret, you’re not a child anymore.” Amanda Carter told her daughter repeatedly after Peggy had started to physically mature. “Like it or not, young lady, you are becoming a young woman and you need to learn to act like one.” 

While Peggy did grow into liking and even enjoying such things as pretty dresses and French perfumes, stylish hairdos and bright colored lipsticks and nail varnishes. She continued to enjoy being physically competitive, and she loved being intellectually challenged. Peggy was smart, and not just book smart, she was clever too, able to think on her feet and act accordingly. She adored puzzles and a good mystery. Her father, Harrison, fueled this passion by bringing home mystery novels that Peggy would have to solve clues to find, and he would try and stump her with new riddles as they explored Hampstead Heath together. During her final years at St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Peggy taught herself about codes and ciphers, easy enough for a girl who could whirl through a crossword in minutes, in order to communicate with Mildred Davies in a way that would prevent their Headmaster and their parents from discovering their affections for one another. It would do no one any good to know the kinds of things Peggy and Millie got up to when they were alone. 

Somerville College should have been a vastly different experience for Peggy. It should have been where she not only learned about academics but learned about herself as well. But she wouldn’t get to have the same kind of experiences as the women who came before her, because the world cracked apart and was about to explode into chaos. 3rd September 1939, Peggy was eighteen years old, and while she was beginning her studies at Somerville, Britain was going to war. While Peggy went to class the beautiful lawns of the main quad were turned into vegetable gardens, large water tanks were installed in case of firebombing, and some of the buildings were turned into overflow hospitals. Leaving Millie behind in Hampstead to work in her family’s shop had left Peggy’s young heart tender with ache, but in the growing uncertainty and looming dangers of the world she now lived in, she found a bit of comfort in a lovely young woman named Ruth who was absolutely terrified because she still had close family in mainland Europe. 

Peggy managed to finish one full year at Somerville before she was recruited to work at Bletchley Park as a codebreaker. Not that anyone but Michael, a newly minted officer in the British Army, knew that Peggy was a codebreaker. As far as everyone else was concerned, Peggy was simply a secretary, but her parents knew Peggy better than that, and the fear of her adventurous spirit had caused Amanda to try and curb any silly notions her daughter might have had about following her brother to the frontlines. Fred Wells was a nice enough chap, the son of a friend of her mother’s, and at first Peggy had simply agreed to go out with him for her mother’s sake. But in a world of uncertainty and fear, with her mother constantly whispering in her ear, Peggy became more and more compliant and soon found herself mistaking Fred’s stability and normalcy for something more. 

"I know you better than anyone else alive, and this isn't what you want." Michael had looked her in the eye at her own engagement party as he called her out for giving in to their mother’s fears and taking them on as her own. 

"What is it you think I want?" Peggy had demanded. 

"Same thing you've wanted since you were a little girl, a life of adventure.” He had smiled at her with such love and devotion and acceptance, it would be a look she carried with her always. 

War was not a child’s adventure fantasy. It wasn’t Peggy’s adventurer’s spirit that caused her to finally accept the invitation from the Special Operations Executive, the new British intelligence agency created by Churchill when he decided to use the tactics used against the British in Ireland in the 1920s against the Germans now. It was a deep sense of duty, the drive to do something meaningful, and a need to honor her brother’s memory. They had been given a small note card on officially marked cardstock with the general area where Michael had been killed in battle, and buried, like so many English lads, on foreign soil. When she’d told her parents that she wanted to take up a more active role in the war effort, that she wanted to be a help on the front lines, her parents had not taken it well. In her grief over Michael, Amanda’s parting words to Peggy as she left that day with her single suitcase in hand, her engagement ring left atop her dresser, were harsher than the elder Carter had meant them to be.

“I will not bury another empty coffin beneath a stone bearing my child’s name on it just because you want to run off and play the hero, Margaret! This isn’t what Michael would want you to do!”

There were tears in Peggy’s eyes as she’d replied, “This is exactly what Michael had wanted me to do.” 

The S.O.E sent her to a large estate in the country and gave her a room in the lord’s manor house. She was trained in physical combat and the use of weapons, but she wasn’t there to be another soldier. Her skills with language and codes, and her dogged relentlessness to crack any cipher thrown at her, had been what attracted the attention of the S.O.E. So, Peggy was trained in the art of espionage, sabotage, and guerrilla style warfare. She learned to take in details quickly, to spot differences no matter how minor, to memorize, retain, relay information in various undetectable ways, to speak the languages she already knew in different dialects and with or without regional accents, and the art of hiding in plain sight. By the end of her training she could be a dockman’s wife from Poplar, the Lady of the manor, or a Russian war widow looking for work, and give her trainers a full report on everything she’d seen and heard. Peggy had a natural gift for tactics, and her ability to think fast under pressure had impressed more than a few higher ups. Peggy had also been trained in survival skills, and in resisting interrogation and torture, because a lot of what she would be doing she would be doing on her own, relying only on herself. 

At the end of her training Peggy was rushed out of her bed without warning in the middle of the night, she scrambled to dress and collect her pack which was always packed and ready by her bed, and then blindfolded and driven for hours out to a cold, rocky, mountainous place in the middle of nowhere, and told to find her own way back. Michael had had a compass from when he was a boy, a really nice one he’d worked and saved for months to buy after he’d become a wolf cub scout. He carried that compass with him everywhere with such pride, it was the first thing he’d earned for himself. It had been in his belongings when they’d been returned to them after his death, and Peggy had taken it for herself. Michael used to tell her that it was special, that as long as he had his compass, he would always find his way home to the people he loved. It bothered Peggy that he hadn’t had it on him when he died. If he had, maybe he would still be alive. Now she was the one who never left without it, it helped her to determine that she was in Scotland and which way to go to get back to the estate. She’d had the foresight to bring flint to start a fire, a cup to collect stream water, a knife for defense and food if need be, a half-eaten package of shortbread biscuits, and dry socks. Peggy hated having cold feet. She also grabbed false identification and a bit of money, not that she would need them, just to show her superiors she knew what she was doing. Not only did Peggy make it back to the manor safely, but she was also the first to do so, and in record time. 

Margaret “Peggy” Carter became an agent of the British counterintelligence and security agency, also known as MI5. She worked ops in occupied France and Austria, skirting the very borders of Germany itself. Then came the operation that would change Peggy Carter’s life forever, a mission of such importance that Churchill himself was there when she was given it. She was to rescue a German born Jewish scientist, Doctor Abraham Erskine, from a castle in the Bavarian Alps, a castle infested with Nazis, and she had to do it alone, no back up, and no rescue if she were to be captured. The first thing Peggy did was to learn all she could about Erskine. On paper he didn’t seem like the type to willingly help the regime responsible for the horrors happening to his people, which meant the only reason he was still alive and working for Hitler was coercion. Erskine had a wife, Greta, a daughter, Marlene, and a son, Klaus. If the Nazis had his family, Erskine wasn’t likely to just up and leave with her, and she couldn’t get him back to England without his cooperation. Peggy needed to find out what happened to Erskine’s family before she tried to extract him, and in doing so she would discover the true horror of the war, what really went on in Hitler’s camps. 

Greta, Marlene, and Klaus were taken to Dachau after being captured following Doctor Erskine’s failed attempt to flee Germany with his family. They died of typhus during an outbreak that swept through the camp. Doctor Erskine was never told, he continued to work under Johann Schmidt’s threats that he would kill them if he didn’t do exactly what he wanted him to do. Peggy, barely out of her adolescence, had to be the one to tell Erskine that his family was dead after sneaking into Castle Kaufmann disguised as a maid. Peggy had found and befriended an old woman who escorted her to the castle to work, and from the castle on the days she returned to the village. Her grandmother: she’d told the soldiers, who quickly grew used to seeing the young maid with the elderly woman as they came and went from the castle. So when Peggy left the castle one bitterly cold evening on the arm of an older woman with shoulders hunched, her faded scarf wrapped around her gray hair, a thick wool shawl over her shoulders to ward off the winter winds, no one gave it even a passing thought. 

Erskine continued to play her grandmother until they were over the border and well into Switzerland. Peggy quickly found Erskine and his willingness to dress in drag and play along endearing. Especially given the fact that he was able to keep up the act despite his enormous grief and anger. After acquiring fake identity papers Peggy and Erskine continued traveling under the guise of father and daughter until reaching the safety of British soil. Peggy was congratulated on her success and earned herself a place in the newly formed allied venture known as the Strategic Scientific Reserve as a ranking member of the British government. 

That’s how Peggy ended up here at Camp Lehigh surrounded by Neanderthals who found uncreative ways of reminding her that she was a woman. The Americans catcalled and mocked her, calling her sweetheart and princess. “An army camp ain’t no place for a pretty little dame like you.” The Englishmen patronized her. They didn’t question her presence there, women all over Britain were stepping into whatever roles the war effort needed them in, but they still thought she was someone who needed their protection and guidance. The Irishmen and Aussies knew the worth of a strong, hearty woman, but still saw her as a prize to be wed not respected as a fellow. At least the Canadians were respectful. Peggy didn’t shy away from putting these men in their place, if they wanted a show of dominance, she would give it to them. The one bright spot in this hailstorm of testosterone was Doctor Erskine. They had grown close over the years since his recuse. They had come to find a bit of comfort from their past play acting as father and daughter, forming a bond of friendship that helped to soothe their grief over loved ones lost, and the longing for those left to wait at home for the end of this horrible world war. 

Erskine watched, he was always watching, waiting to find the perfect male subject for Project Rebirth. None of the allied soldiers that came through the camp was that man. Only one person had shown the qualities he was looking for and he knew all too well that the American cowboy in command would never allow him to have his top pick. It’s why he had sent off a missive to someone he felt would be an ally when the time came. A sharp, commanding voice drew his attention to the other side of the camp’s training grounds. Agent Carter was drilling a unit of hopefuls that he would never agree too. Erskine watched and listened to the way the men responded to Carter, their resentment at having to take orders from a woman rolling off them in waves. 

After dismissing the unit Peggy lingered for a moment to make some notes, things about each man she wanted to remember to add to the files of the men she’d just been working with. Erskine kept telling her that when the perfect candidate was found, they would know it without doubt. She was starting to have doubts that they ever would, and Phillips was going to start pushing the Doctor into accepting his choice if they didn’t find someone soon. 

“I don’t like it, Liebchen.” Erskine said as he approached. “The way the men treat you, as if you are not worthy of their respect simply because of your sex, it’s barbaric.” 

Peggy chuckled as she looked up to meet his gaze. Erskine must have heard the men muttering as they dispersed. “The only woman these blokes have ever listened to with any amount of honest respect is this mother, and I am not their mother.” 

“Perhaps their mothers should have taught them to respect all women.” Erskine grumbled. 

“It’s fine, Doctor.” Peggy offered him a warm smile. “I’ve faced worse. I can handle it.” 

“Well, I can offer you at least one evening of not having to handle it.” Erskine let himself smile as he asked, “Would you accompany me to Mr. Stark’s, now what did he call it,” The old man paused to think and then raised his hand, finger pointing up, as he continued. “Oh, yes, his shindig.” 

Peggy laughed. “Only Howard Stark would create an entire exposition to celebrate himself.” 

The Stark Expo wasn’t, as Peggy had teased, just a showcase of Howard’s ego. Half the things he was showing off appeared to be failures. No need for the enemy to know that Howard Stark really was as brilliant as he claimed to be. The expo also served as a reminder that despite the darkness of current world events, there would be a tomorrow, and it would be a bright one. Though the U.S. didn’t suffer as badly as England following the so-called Great War to end all wars, it had suffered and struggled, and now both countries were in the midst of a second war. Babies born following World War One were now being sent off to fight and die on the European battlefronts their grandfathers, fathers, and uncles had bleed and died on. Peggy’s father had served in the Great War and had been the only one to return. Her father’s brothers, Alfred, and William had both been killed. She and Michael had been raised with a strong sense of duty to King and Country as a way of honoring their sacrifice. Her mother had been furious when Peggy ended her engagement to join the service, but her father had been proud of her choice and when he hugged her at the train station he told her, “Don’t let those thick headed blokes dump on ya because you’re a girl. You show ‘em what a Carter can do, Duckie.” 

She sure as hell was trying.

Finding herself alone after Erskine excused himself to check in with the recruitment office in his never ending pursuit to find his perfect male candidate, Peggy took in some of the exhibits in between glancing up at what seemed to be a never ending fireworks display. This must all be costing Howard a fortune. Standing in front of a case holding what appeared to be some type of robot Peggy wonders to what lengths they will go to win this war. “Horton’s synthetic man?” 

“Ages away from being anything real.” Howard Stark says as he steps up beside Peggy. “Fin’s prototypes keep catching on fire and he can’t figure out why.” 

Peggy simply shakes her head. “Human robotics sounds like a dangerous path, Howard.” 

“Don’t sweat it, Peg.” Howard reassures. “We’ll both be dead and gone before they figure it out.” She turns to glare at him, her dark eyes and thin lips letting him know that was not comforting. He flashes her a charming smile. “Come on, Peg. Let’s go find the Doc and I’ll buy you both a steak and whiskey. Lord knows what they're actually feeding you on that government base.”

As they make their way across the promenade, Howard’s ridiculous jingle about the future playing through the speakers overhead, Peggy watches the man walking beside her freely ogling every pretty girl they pass. Peggy rolls her eyes and not for the first time asks herself why she’s friends with this man. “Howard.” 

The tone of her voice was all Howard needed to know what Peggy was thinking. He smirked at her as he teased, “Would you rather I look at the pretty boys in their uniforms and Sunday best suits instead?” 

“Howard!” Peggy’s voice was soft and low so she wouldn’t be heard but that took nothing away from its sharpness. 

Howard laughed. “Don’t look so scandalized, Peg. You know that I, unlike you, thrive on my deviance.” 

Peggy blushed hard. That was actually one of the reasons she’d allowed Howard in despite not being the type of person she would normally consider befriending. They shared the same affliction, that of being attracted to their own gender, as well as the opposite. While she was fairly sure Howard’s attraction to other men was purely physical, her own desires ran deeper. While she had no doubt that she would do the proper thing and someday marry a good man, Peggy knew deep down she wouldn’t be as happy as she would be if she could do the same with a wonderful woman. “Someday Howard Stark, you are going to have to grow up.” 

“Is that how you really feel, Peg?” Howard asks as he looks into those big brown doe eyes of hers. “That the way we feel is a youthful flight of fancy?” 

“It has to be.” Peggy answered, her voice taking on an almost sad and reserved tone. “Perhaps someday in the future, for those like us who live alongside your synthetic men, it can be different, but for us, these feelings will only lead to heartache and pain.” 

“How surprisingly conventional of you, Margaret.” Howard replied with a shake of his head as if disappointed in her. “The world would be a better place if we humans hadn’t put so many damn taboos on sex.” 

Peggy wasn’t sure if the whole world would be better off but hers would be. When they find Doctor Erskine, he’s optimistic and hopeful about something, but he won’t tell her what. She figures out later that he didn’t want to taint her first impressions of Steve Rogers, the small guy from Brooklyn who showed up to board the bus to Camp Lehigh with an I-A stamped on his enlistment papers. The first time she lays eyes on him is in his recruit unit’s first lineup. As she comes thundering towards the men, she sees a gap in the line at eye level and is about to tell the unit off about following orders when her gaze drops for a moment. There isn’t a gap, just a would-be soldier a head or more shorter than the rest. She watches him try and try again, always harder than the time before. She watches the others laugh at and taunt him without mercy, and how that just seems to fuel his drive to try harder still. The little guy from Brooklyn whose brave heart was simply too big for his tiny frame. 

“You simply can not fight the way the others do, Private Rogers.” Peggy had told him one afternoon after watching him get flung around like a ragdoll. “You do not have the size or stamina, whether you like it or not.” She eyed him for a moment and then shook her head before removing her uniform jacket and tucking her tie into her shirt. “Here, let me show you a better way to fight. Just because you’re smaller doesn’t mean you can’t get the upper hand.” 

She trained Steve herself, every evening just the two of them, giving him more and more of a fighting chance. Erskine was beyond pleased; he had found his perfect choice, but Phillips would never go for it.

Phillips was out of his goddamn mind! Peggy ran for the grenade while all the men ran for cover, all but one. Steve also ran towards the grenade. While Steve dived for the grenade, prepared to shield everyone from the blast using his own body, Peggy had reached for a hairpin to replace the ring pin that Phillips had pulled. Two different ways of handling the situation, but both showing bravery and a willingness to sacrifice themselves to save the lives of others. 

Phillips thought Erskine was the one who was insane. His voice bellowed out of his office, catching Peggy’s attention as she made her way down the hall. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You want to use a girl and the runt?”

“Agent Carter and Private Rogers meet all of my requirements for Project Rebirth.” That was Erskine’s voice. “I have seen this experiment go horribly wrong, Colonel, and you know of the effects that mistake has had upon the war. I will not allow that to happen again. These are my choices.” 

Phillips grunts. “I can understand you wanting Carter. She’s highly skilled, good at what she does, and quite frankly I’d be lost without her. If she weren’t a dame, I’d let you have her with my blessing, but she is, Doc! And Rogers? I’ve taken shits that weigh more than he does!” 

“The serum will take care of Steven's physical limitations.” Erskine replies easily. 

“Is it going to make Carter not a girl?” Phillip’s huffs. “There’s no damn way the war office is going to let you turn a girl into a super soldier.” 

Erskine’s smile tints his voice along with a bit of brave arrogance in the face of the imposing American colonel. “Perhaps the American war office would not allow it. The British war office has already granted me permission, as long as Margaret agrees of course.”

Peggy’s head was spinning. Is that why Erskine always said he was looking for the right male subject? She hadn’t really thought about why he would always include the gender, everyone just assumed Project Rebirth’s subject would be a man. But he wanted her, why? “Because” he would tell her when he approached her about it later that evening, “you have an inner strength forged from being a woman with her own mind in a world where men hold all the power. Because you have the intelligence and the heart to handle what the serum will give you. The world at large may not see your value, Liebchen, but I do.” 

The die was cast, Erskine would get his way. Steve Rogers, the ninety-pound runt from Brooklyn would be the American test subject. Margaret Carter, the girl spy from Hampstead would be the British test subject. According to the powers that be, the pair would make an unstoppable team, with Steve as the brawn and Peggy as brains. 

“Did it ever occur to you to run?” Peggy asks after Steve has listed all places where he’d been beaten up. 

Steve shakes his head as he continues to look out the window of the car they’re riding in. “No, not really. I don’t like bullies.” Silence falls between them for a few moments and then Steve finally turns to look at Peggy. “Can I ask you something, Agent Carter?” Peggy nods. Steve takes a deep breath. “Are you, ya know, about what’s about to happen?” 

She understood what he was trying to say and nods. “Yes, I am.” 

“Really?” Steve replies, shocked. 

“We’ve no idea how this will play out.” Peggy says softly. “So, of course I’m feeling nervous and a bit scared.” She sighs. “I’m also feeling more than a little selfish, but also very excited.” 

Steve frowns a bit. He can understand feeling scared and excited, that’s how he felt, but, “Selfish? You’re one of the least selfish people I’ve ever met, Agent Carter.” 

“My parents only had two children.” Peggy turns away from his caring blue eyes to watch the city pass by her window. “My brother was killed in action, and now here I am about to allow heaven only knowns what to be done to me. That’s selfish, Private Rogers.” 

No one thought to tamper with the pod with her name on it. Carter was just a woman after all. Rogers would be the threat if Project Rebirth worked. Peggy could feel the warmth of the serum as it flowed through her veins from the injection sites. It flowed easily along with her blood to her heart, swelled hotly in her chest, and then rushed back out through her arteries as each pump of her heart pushed it through her system. When Howard turned on his vita rays, the warmth turned into a searing fire. Every atom in her body burned as if she had molten steel coursing through her. Later, when her mind wasn’t so clouded by pain and then grief, Peggy would think about the name, Rebirth, and how fitting it was. Like a mythical phoenix, Peggy stepped out of the vita ray chamber changed by fire. 

Peggy emerged from the chamber to find Steve on a gurney, pale, sweating, shaking with seizures, and in pain. Something had gone wrong with his chamber; his treatment was aborted, and he was being rushed off to medical. Peggy barely had time to wrap her head around what was happening with Steve when Erskine was shot. He stumbled backwards, she caught him, the front of his shirt quickly turning red. “Go Liebchen, you mustn’t let them get away with the formula.” 

She had always been in peak health, but this, this was different. Peggy ran through the city streets like they were an obstacle course and yet when she finally caught her query, stopping him from biting down on his false tooth after fishing him out of the river, she wasn’t even winded. She had run faster than anyone should be able to, leaped over cars as easily as a horse over a creek, and at one point had even ripped the door off a taxicab. She carried the enemy agent’s unconscious form back to the hidden underground base as easily as she’d carry a cup of tea across the parlor. She felt incredible and she couldn’t wait to tell Erskine, but he would never know that it had worked, that his life’s work had gone right this time. 

“I’m sorry, Agent Carter.” Phillips had said sincerely. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Peggy replies, her heart breaking. “Rogers?”

“Alive but unconscious.” Phillips answers. “We’re not sure if he even got any of the serum, let alone enough to make a difference.” 

Peggy could feel his eyes on her, not in a lude way, he was simply taking in her physical changes. She was a few inches taller, a bit closer to six feet than she used to be at five foot seven. There was far more definition to her muscles, muscles that when flex showed power beneath the skin. Over the following weeks Peggy’s abilities were tested and retested, which she could understand up to a point. There was still a war raging on and the whole point of this project was to give the Allies an upper hand. Frustratingly Phillips had been right. The Americans weren’t about to allow a woman into combat. Fine, she would play along, for now at least, but she would play her way.

Picking up the phone in her room Peggy called a number very few people knew. When the man’s voice answered on the other end she said, “Jepson, it’s Carter.” He was an S.O.E recruiter, one who felt strongly that women were perfect for spy craft. “I need somethings that only you can get for me. Thank you. I owe you one.” 

Peggy was a spy, one of the best damn spies in the field. If the Americans wanted to parade her around in USO tours, fine, she could use that to her advantage, at least until the time was right for her to truly get involved in this war. She would not let Erskine’s sacrifices go to waste, and God have mercy on anyone who tried to stop her just because she was a woman.


	2. Chapter 2

Yes, the fact that Peggy Carter was a woman was a big reason why she found herself in the hellscape she was now in. But the fact that she was the only fully successful thing remaining of Doctor Erskine’s work, played another huge part in Peggy finding herself sidelined despite the extraordinary things she could now do. The Americans didn’t want to risk losing whatever possibilities she might now carry in her altered DNA, so they decided to keep her a secret and use her in what they deemed safer ways until they could ‘evaluate’ her properly after the war. The U.S War Department had dubbed her Miss. America their new poster girl for wartime morale. Peggy found it utterly ridiculous, the whole bloody thing was absolutely sodding preposterous. The S.O.E felt the same way, which is why an internal battle brewed between the U.S. and Britain regarding her role, with Britain wanting her to actually be in the bloody war. 

Meanwhile, Peggy had to make do. She was a trained agent with skills in espionage and spy craft, so when she begrudgingly stepped out in front of the crowds to sell war bonds or boost the morale of allied servicemen as Miss America, she had long blonde hair and spoke in an American accent. She used make-up to change the shape of her eyes, the width of her nose, and to make her lips thinner and softer. She absolutely refused to wear the absurd red, white, and blue cheerleader costumes the musical talent wore. Instead, when forced too, she wore an outfit closer in style to her military uniform; a blue knee length skirt and a top with red and white strips that ran along her midsection, blue at the bust and shoulders, and a huge white star on her chest. Peggy was not a fan, while the cut and style were modest and similar to what she normally wore, the color scheme was horrendous. The costume she preferred and wore most often was a fashionable take on a proper soldier's uniform in either blue or green, both colors shifting the color of her eyes, making it hard to pinpoint their natural brown. She also wore pearls and a beret just because she wanted to. Peggy had also made the decision, that since the government wanted to keep her a secret, she would use a stage name, Betsy Carver, a Red Cross field nurse turned patriotic pinup. What she wouldn’t do for King and Country. 

While the S.O.E. found it frustrating that the Americans had sidelined one of their best agents, there was little they could do to get Peggy out of her predicament without causing unneeded conflict between allies, at least for now anyway. So, Peggy made the best of it. While most of the girls in the show with her, her Bombshells as they had been dubbed, where civilians, musical talent mined from talent agencies in New York, a few had been sent to her by Jepson, her S.O.E recruiter friend. Amanda Fraiser was from the Canadian Air Force Women's Division. She was tall, blonde, blue eyed, broad shouldered, and could fly anything from the small lightless planes used to drop spies behind enemy lines to full on bombers and troop transports. Katie Danvers was a dark-haired Irishwoman who had initially joined one of the nursing corps, but had shown incredible skill with firearms, especially sniper rifles. Katie was also quite charming and witty, as was Jaime Bering, a fellow English woman who’d caught the S.O.E’s attention with her intelligence, she could give Howard a run for his money, and her ability to make just about anything they needed in a moment's notice. The three of them and Peggy would make for a good start to the small spy ring Peggy was building around herself.

A few weeks into Miss America’s tour of the Eastern seaboard, an unexpected fifth member joined Peggy’s team. A young woman from Brooklyn, five foot five, dark honey blonde hair, smokey blue eyes with flecks of green, and a smile brighter than any stage light. Angela “Angie” Martinelli was bubbly and warm, always trying to keep everyone’s morale up, and quick witted. She could sing, dance, and act circles around most of the others, and what she could do with a girl’s hair and make-up was almost magical. Peggy had first taken notice of her when some of the other girls were giving her a hard time over being Italian. Angie had handled the mean jeers and taunts with a biting wit that made it seem as if she were complimenting the other girls instead of calling them out as the vicious hags they were. It had put a smile on Peggy’s face, and afterwards she’d started to gravitate towards Angie more and more, preferring her presence over any of the others outside of her little circle of secret S.O.E. girls. Angie, Peggy soon learned, had been assigned to the troop after the call had gone out for W.A.Cs, that is women from the U.S. Women’s Army Corp, with any musical and or acting talent. Angie had it in spades, and honestly, she should have been the headliner for this little endeavor, but Peggy could sense there was a deeper purpose for Angie’s presence here. She had after all, made the conscious choice to join the Women’s Army Corp, and not a USO troop. 

“If you can turn me into an asset instead of a liability, you can do the same for her, Peggy.” Steve had said one evening over dinner when Peggy had mentioned Angie again. “If your gut is telling you there’s something special about this girl, don’t ignore it.” 

Steve had survived the sabotage, waking up from his coma disappointed to find he was still the little guy from Brooklyn, but at least he was in much better health than he had ever been in, in his life. Apparently, he’d gotten just enough of the serum to cure his ills, but not enough to make a difference otherwise. Plus, without the vita rays to activate the super part of the serum, there was no changing him the way it had Peggy. After his recovery, Peggy convinced Phillips to allow Steve to stay in the Army, asking him to assign Steve to her unit as talent. Steve was an artist after all. Phillips agreed, and now all of the propaganda posters featuring Miss America and her Bombshells were done by Steve. 

“Drawing posters and comics isn’t exactly how you wanted to do your part, Steve.” Peggy had once said in a soft sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

Steve had smiled his wide goofy smile at her. “I’m good at the art stuff, Peggy, besides, we’re still a team, right? Just like Dr. Erskine wanted.” Then his smile turned a bit mischievous. “And don’t you worry, Peg, when it’s time for you to get into the fight, I’ll be there with you. I promise.” 

Peggy’s favorite piece of Steve’s art depicted her in battle gear, saluting, ready to fight, allied flags fluttering behind her. ‘Everyone has a part to play. Join Captain Carter in discovering yours and help win the war!’ was written across the bottom. If only she could play the part she was meant to play, instead of sucking it up every night playing the part others thought she should play. 

“That’s a good one.” Angie says softly from over Peggy’s shoulder. 

Peggy tenses, not because Angie had snuck up on her, she’d heard someone approaching, but because it was Angie. Despite her best efforts in trying not to be, Peggy found herself growing more and more infatuated with the tenacious young woman. Folding the concept art back up, Peggy slipped it into one of her pockets as she looked up and smiled at Angie carefully. “That’s not the image the war department has of their Miss America.” 

Angie flicked her hand in a dismissive way as she made a snorted grunt sound from the back of her throat “War department’s full of fatheads. I mean, I’ve seen what you can do, and yet here you sit because you got tits and they don’t know what to do with that.” 

Peggy blushed at the word tits and ducked her head. She had taken Steve’s advice and listened to her instincts, testing Angie a bit to see if she had the potential, she thought she had. Not only had Angie been able to discover Betsy Carver was a cover, and that Peggy was English and probably a spy, she’d gotten Peggy to use her abilities in front of her. “Yes, well, the fact that those fatheads underestimated me allowed me to send Katie after that sympathizer congressman, so, the war still has proper funding since he decided it best to vote for the recent budget bill and not against it before announcing he would not be running for a new term.” 

Angie smiled proudly. “If they’d get out of your way, you’d have this war won in a blink, English.”

From anyone else the nickname would annoy Peggy beyond belief, but from Angie, it seemed to cause a bit of warm in her chest that she couldn’t explain. 

“Didn’t feel like heading out with the others tonight?” Angie asked after taking a moment to enjoy the pink on Peggy’s cheeks and the slightest of smiles on her lips. 

“No.” Peggy replies with a gentle shake of her head. “Not really in the mood for a dance.” 

“Me either.” Angie agrees. “We get enough of those horndog solider boys at the shows.” She smiled warmly at Peggy. “Wouldn’t mind getting off base for a bit though. I know a place with good pie and decent coffee that takes like coffee and not wet potting soil. Wanna come with?” 

The smile Angie is giving her doesn’t allow Peggy to do anything but agree. She allows the smaller woman to pull her to her feet and returns Angie’s smile gladly. “Getting away for a bit sounds nice, Angie. Thank you.” 

They end up going to the cinema first where Angie finds Peggy’s groaning over the newsreels about Miss America and her Bombshells cute and endearing. Peggy finds the newsreels annoying, though it did seem to prove that her disguise worked well. No one in the theater even glanced her way as they exited. No one in the automat diner they ended up in, the L&L according to the neon green sign over the door, seemed to recognize her either, despite the fact that several of her posters were hanging on the walls. 

“I almost got a job here.” Angie says after they’ve ordered their meals. “The plan was to wait tables while I went on auditions. Even had an appointment for an interview at the Griffith, a boarding house for young single woman, that’s nearby.”

“What changed your plans?” Peggy asks as she fidgets with her water glass. Peggy had learned early on to be guarded around girls she fancied. All it would take was one slip up and things could go very badly for her. But there was just something about Angie that set her at ease and allowed her to relax despite the fact that Peggy found her beautiful, witty, and warm. 

For several seconds Angie just sat there quietly, but then she softly said, “My brother Frank, he wanted more from life than working at the shop with our Pop. He was the eldest, ya know, the one expected to follow in Pop’s footsteps and one day take over the fish shop, but Frank had big dreams of seeing the world that didn’t include fish mongering.” Angie paused when the waitress in her faded green uniform returned with their milkshakes. She played with her straw, bobbing it up and down as she continued. “The only realistic way for a kid from a family like mine to get to see the world is by joining the service. Frank, he signed up for the navy before he was even out of high school. Left for basic the day after he graduated.”

Peggy saw where this was going and reached across the table to place her hand on top of Angie’s without thinking. The pain in Angie’s eyes said it all. “Pearl Harbor?” 

Angie nods. “He was so excited about it, ya know, a kid from Brooklyn posted in Hawaii. He loved it, was even darting a pretty little local girl, Lani, and was thinking about marrying her.”

“Angie, I’m so sorry.” Peggy says softly. 

“My other older brothers joined up the day after his funeral.” Angie gave Peggy a small smile meant to thank her for her sympathy, but as her gaze fell on their hands, Peggy’s resting so warmly on her own, her smile grew a bit. Looking back up to meet Peggy’s gaze she continued, “I couldn’t just do nothing, ya know, I couldn’t just ignore what happened. I needed to do more than just try and become some Broadway starlet. So, I joined the women’s corp.” 

“All of you joined?” Peggy was a bit wide eyed at the thought of Angie’s parents having all of their children away at war. 

Angie shakes her head. “The twins are still at home, they’re still just kids.” She chuckles softly. “I was supposed to be Ma’s last, her girl after having four boys, but Pop got very sweet and romantic for Christmas one year and bam, Vinny and Antonia showed up the following fall.” There was another pause in the conversation as their plates were set in front of them. Good ol’ American cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes, Angie had insisted. “What about you, English? How’d you end up here?” 

“In a very similar way actually.” Peggy answered as she watched Angie dunk a french fry into her chocolate shake with a grimace. “My brother Michael was killed in action, and I knew I had to do more than I was doing back in England, so I accepted a position that eventually led me here.” 

“Secretly forming a group of girls to get things done.” Angie’s voice was low and soft so only Peggy could hear. 

Peggy smiled brightly. “Yes.” But then her smile faded, and Peggy suddenly looked more serious. “No one else should lose a brother to this terrible war.” 

“I’ll drink to that, English.” Angie said as she clinked her fountain glass against Peggy’s. “Now quit lookin’ at me like I’m crazy. Dip your fry into your milkshake and try it. It’s good, trust me.”

The L&L became their spot whenever they were in New York and Peggy found herself missing its lackluster food, good pie, decent coffee, and most of all being alone with Angie. Things were a bit cramped on the USO tour, most of the bases in Europe simply weren’t equipped for women, meaning that whatever space they were given was too small for the number of women who shared it. Now that they were touring Europe, Peggy could connect the women she’d been working with and training with contacts that could put them to use. Selfishly she wanted to keep Angie with her, safe and sound and singing for her on stage, but Peggy knew that isn’t what Angie had enlisted to do. Of the four women she’d been working with Angie had the most natural talent and would prove useful in mingling in the nightclubs and cabarets in occupied areas. So that’s what Angie was sent out to do, gather information and meet contacts in the cafes and gin joints of mainland Europe. 

Because Miss America had so many backup girls no one ever missed when one or two went missing. Peggy noticed though because she was normally the reason why they weren’t there. Peggy really noticed when it was Angie who wasn’t there with her. Sulking off the stage more than normal, Peggy made her way to the backstage tent set up for her and the others to dress and quick change. The sea of servicemen she’d just encouraged to keep fighting for their sweethearts back home were still cheering, whistling, and catcalling, but she was done for the evening. Pulling off her wig she made her way to ‘dressing room’ in the back corner of the tent just as the patter of rain began to pelt the sides. She was shaking out her hair and groaning as she stepped inside but stopped instantly at the sight that awaited her. “Steve?” He was sitting on a crate ringing his hat in his hands. “Steve, darling what’s wrong?” 

“Some of the 107th is missing, Peg.” Steve said as he raised worried, frightened, blue eyes to meet her warm, concerned gaze. “My,” He pauses, his voice cracking a bit. “My buddy, my best friend, Bucky, he’s with the 107th.”

Walking over Peggy sits beside Steve and puts her arm around his shoulders. “What does Colonel Phillips say?” 

“Nothing to me.” Steve says bitterly. “I’m just the runt who follows you around like a lovesick puppy.” 

That makes her angry, and that anger only grows when Phillips won’t tell her anything either. She was no longer an agent of the S.S.R or a British Intelligence officer in his eyes, she was the War department's pretty propaganda doll who boosted morale and got people to buy war bonds. Thankfully, Peggy didn’t need Phillips, she had her own ways of getting information and by the time they reached the next stop on the tour she knew where the 107th was being held. After a quick radio call to Howard, Peggy found herself on a plane with him and Steve. Steve wanted to go in with her, but she didn’t think that was a good idea. While getting a small fraction of the Rebirth treatment had made him healthy, it had not made him into what she was. 

“Well,” Steve said as he dropped a duffle bag at her feet. “At least wear this.” 

The uniform looked like the one from his poster. Brown combat trousers with deep pockets, a utility belt and weapons holster, armored red, white, and blue top but in darker more muted shades, white star on her chest. They hadn’t given her a weapon on stage because she was a woman, but they had given her a shield which she’d brought along, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Howard had no issues with giving her weapons, and once she’d slid them into her holsters, she was ready. Stepping out from behind the cargo netting she’d used to change behind she rejoined the boys just in time to hear them discussing fondu. Peggy blinked, “What the bloody hell are you two on about?” 

Howard was laughing from the cockpit. “Stevie boy thinks you and me are a thing.” 

“Eww.” Peggy replies, making a face at Steve who was blushing. “Howard and I? No.” 

Before jumping out of the plane Peggy promises Steve that she’ll find Bucky and bring him back safely. She does her best to reign in her emotions, the fear and anticipation, the uncertainty, and the excitement over what she was about to do. She’s going in virtually blind. Peggy has no idea what will be waiting for her inside that compound, so she does her best to prepare for all kinds of possible unknowns. She finds a way inside shortly after landing and instantly discovers that this wasn’t just a run of the mile Nazi base, this was a Hydra base. A knot twisted in Peggy's stomach as she crept deeper inside after planting some explosives to be used later. Hydra was a twisted offshoot of the Nazis, created and led by Erskine’s first attempt at using the serum, Johann Schmidt. Peggy could feel the sweat beading on her brow as the knot in her stomach tightened painfully as she searched for the captured soldiers. What were they doing here? What were those strange weapons the enemy soldiers were carrying? This was technology far beyond what they had, and they had no defense against it because they didn’t know what the bloody hell it was. So as Peggy searched for the 107th she pocketed whatever she could get her hands on for Howard and his crew to have a look at when she returned. 

The men of the 107th were being held in circular cages, guards constantly on patrol, but totally unsuspecting of an outside attack. When one of the guards she knocks out falls onto the grating above them the men inside all jump to their feet. “What the hell?” A big burly ginger bearded man says. She steps closer but is still in shadow for a moment, giving them only a basic outline of a person. “Who the hell are you?” 

“The calvary.” Peggy replies as she takes the keys off the fallen guard. 

“Holy shit,” The big man grumbles. “You’re a dame!” 

Peggy rolls her eyes as she leaps to the ground to unlock the cell door. “I am a woman, yes, now do shut up and help me open the rest of these doors, unless you would like to remain with your oh so gracious hosts?” 

“I’d know that biting wit anywhere.” A male voice with a posh English accent says from behind the ginger man. “Agent Carter?” 

“It’s Captain Carter now, Major Falsworth.” Peggy greets him in reply, though her gaze isn’t on him. As the cells are opened and emptied out Peggy calls out, “Is Sergeant Barnes here?” 

Falsworth shakes his head. “They took him hours ago.” He makes eye contact with her before he adds. “The men they’ve taken, Captain, they don’t tend to come back.” 

Peggy begins to issue orders, explaining to the men how to get out, and handing the detonator for the explosives she’d planted earlier to the big man Falsworth had called Dum Dum. “They have no idea what’s about to happen. Cause as much chaos as you can while heading for a clearing northwest of here. I’ll meet you there with anyone else I find.” The men just stood there staring at her and Peggy did her best to not sigh. “What are you ladies waiting for a proper invitation to tea? Move your arses!”

They jump at her command and begin their chaotic exit. 

Meanwhile Peggy looks for anyone else, more specifically, she looks for James Barnes. When she finds him, he’s in bad shape and fights her as she tries to free him until she says, “It’s alright Sergeant Barnes, I’m a friend, Steve sent me.” 

He looks doubtful but stops struggling against her as he repeats. “Steve?” 

She smiles reassuringly at him and nods. “He told me to tell you that you took too much of the stupid with you.” 

Bucky laughs, it causes him pain to do so and he winces from it, but he lets himself be helped after that. 

They almost make it out before a cold, harsh, voice calls out, stopping them in their tracks. “Well, you are unexpected. A woman? What a waste. Did the good Doctor really think his life’s work would be better used on a female?” 

The sight of Schmidt peeling away his false face to reveal the true demon beneath would haunt Peggy’s nightmares for weeks to come. Erskine’s words rang in her memory the whole time she and the 107th marched their way back to base, “The serum, it brings out the best in someone who is good, but in someone who is not so good, it brings out the devil in him. You, Margaret Carter, embody everything good about humanity, the serum will only heighten that. Schmidt is the worst humanity has to offer and he now bears his truth for all to see.”

Phillips ranted and raved and made threats he couldn’t follow up on. With the exception of Angie, all of Peggy’s little spy birds were in service to the Crown, not the Americans. And even though Angie was technically U.S. Army, she was safe from Phillips ire too because Peggy had secured her a position with the S.O.E. as an agent under Peggy’s command. Howard was a wealthy civilian contractor who provided them with too much of what they needed to be blamed for this little stunt. So that left poor Steve to bear the brunt of Phillips' anger, anger that came from having his own superiors riding his ass for allowing their precious asset out his sight.

“With all due respect, Sir.” Angie cuts in when she’s had enough. “You of all people know that Carter isn’t a dame in distress. She was a capable soldier and spy before getting turned into a super soldier, and now that she is one, you’ve allowed her to be treated like a fragile test tube instead of using her skills and abilities to help turn the tide and win this war sooner rather than later.”

Phillips was about to have the MPs throw the lot of them in the brig and lose the key but before he could form his anger into words the camp outside his tent erupted into thunderous cheers. Angie and the others followed him out to see what was happening and the moment she laid eyes on Peggy leading home the 107th, her heart finally began to beat again. There may have been tears in Angie’s eyes as the relief washed over her but that didn’t stop her smile from being bright when Peggy was finally standing in front of her. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Peggy replies gently, returning Angie’s smile and seeing the concern and relief in the other woman’s eyes. 

“Hey!” Someone called out from the crowd. It sounded like Sergeant Barnes. “Hey! Everyone! Listen up!” 

“Let's hear it for Captain Carter!” Steve’s voice rang out next from where he stood beside Bucky. “She and her people found you all, and she brought you all home!” 

The men all cheer and celebrate the safe return of their brothers in arms, and more than a few of those returned men swear they’ll follow the Captain into hell itself and beyond; Bucky, Dum Dum, and Falsworth among them.

Angie was one of those swearing fidelity to Captain Carter too. She smirked at Peggy, enjoying the light blush all the adoration was causing, and asked, “Well, what do you say, Captain English, ready to win a war?” 

“I think Captain Britain might have a better ring to it.” Steve says as he joins them, totally oblivious to the looks passing between his friends.

Peggy forces herself to look away from Angie and smiles. “Well I certainly can’t be Captain America now, can I?”


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, in a quite natural way, the four of them became a set. Peggy, Angie, Steve, and Bucky. Wherever Peggy led the other three followed. On the battlefield Peggy was now Captain Britain, while Angie, Bucky, Steve, Peggy’s other spy birds, and a few handpicked, by Peggy herself, fellas made up her new Howling Commandos. Privately, it was Peggy and Angie, and Steve and Bucky, close friends and obviously coupled up. Well, not totally obvious, at least to them. Angie had always been pretty self-aware and accepting of her preferences, sure she might be going to Hell, but if she ever got to see Peggy with nothing on but her watch and a smile, she’d gladly go to Hell with a spring in her step whistling a happy tune. Peggy also knew that she preferred the intimate company of women but didn’t mind the occasional company of a man. What she hadn’t quite caught on to yet was the fact that she’d fallen in love with the young woman from Brooklyn who had become her best friend during their months touring together with the USO troop. Bucky could see it, he noticed the way the two looked at each other, the way they made each other smile and laugh, how much they worried when the other was away, and he saw the relief wash over them when they knew the other was safe and sound. 

But what was easy for Bucky to see in others, he wouldn’t allow himself to see in himself. Bucky understood he had unnatural urges that he would try to push away, hide from, but ultimately give into. He also understood that he felt something when it came to Steve, he was just afraid to acknowledge what that was, and what that meant about him. Poor Steve was just sweetly oblivious to everything. All he knew for sure was he’d be willing to put it all on the line for the people he loved, Bucky, Peggy, Angie, mostly Bucky. Whatever their individual understandings were, what all four of them knew was that there was safety and home within their little group. 

“Where’s the little punk?” Bucky asks as he and Angie walk into the map room where Peggy is working. 

Peggy grunts softly at the disturbance. They’re based out of England, far beneath the streets of London, for the most part. Though they also worked out of a northern air base that had once been open land belonging to some minor lord. Peggy was currently finalizing plans for another ground assault in their plan to bulldoze through Hydra on their way to Berlin. Feeling eyes on her she looks up from her maps and sees Bucky and Angie standing there waiting for a response. What was the question? Oh, yes, “He’s with Howard tinkering with his tin soldier.” 

When it became abundantly clear that both Peggy and Bucky were going into the battlefield, Steve refused to be left behind. Howard had been playing around with an idea for a type of tank operated by a single person, an army of iron giants to back up Erskine’s super soldier, and Steve had been playing around with a design in his sketch books. Howard had loved the look when Steve showed it to him, and now Steve was the test pilot for Howard’s iron war machine. 

“You go get the pipsqueak.” Angie told Bucky with a warm smile. “I’ll get little Miss. Trying-to-win-the-war-single-handedly ready and we’ll meet you topside.” 

Bucky nods agreement to this plan while Peggy looks on with a slightly confused expression. She was not trying to win the war single handedly, but she was trying to end it sooner rather than later. 

“Come on, English.” Angie smiles as she walks closer to Peggy. “We leave for the RAF base in a few days, and then you’ll be off to break enemy lines, and I’ll be off to France to get under the kraut's skin. It’ll be a while before the four of us will see each other again. Let’s go have a little fun.” 

When Angie looked at her that way, with those smokey blue eyes and sweet as pie smile, how could Peggy say no? Sighing a dramatic sigh, it would do no good if Angie knew just how easily Peggy could and would give in to her, Peggy agreed with a bothersome, “Fine.” 

Dressed in their best uniforms the four headed out to have dinner and do a little dancing at a community center turned USO dancehall. Peggy hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed a break and a chance to catch her breath until she was laughing at a story Bucky was telling about Steve. She really loved hearing her three companions tell tales of their shared home of Brooklyn, and promised herself that when this was all over, she would enjoy allowing her friends to show her around their little patch of the world. “It would be nice to see more of New York than just Manhattan and New Jersey.” 

“It ain’t right that you’re only real experience of the states is Jersey.” Angie says and then smiles at Peggy in a way that makes Peggy’s chest feel warm. “We’ll show ya ‘round, we’ll show ya the real Manhattan. You’ll love New York, English, you’ll see.”

The group walked down the London street with Peggy and Angie in the center as they talked and laughed on their way to the dancehall. Peggy and Angie just normally gravitated towards walking together, and the boys had always been taught to never let a lady walk beside the street, so Bucky walked along the curb while Steve took up a position on Peggy’s other side. To anyone who might have seen them it looked as if they’d paired off, Bucky with Angie, and Steve with Peggy. In fact, ask anyone in the unit for gossip, and they’d tell you that Steve was absolutely sweet on Peggy, and that Angie fancied Bucky. They’d also tell you that if there was trouble to be found, a right to be wronged, or a fight no matter how big or small, those four were probably involved. Even before they turned the corner Peggy could hear the raised voices and her good mood soured instantly. 

“Where do you think you’re going, boy?” An American voice drawled out in timbers of anger and hate.

“We’re not looking for any trouble.” Another American voice replies. “We just want to have a couple of drinks and enjoy the music.” 

“Find someplace else.” The first voice said venomously. “We don’t want your kind here, boy.” 

Peggy hears Bucky groan and say something about her being as bad as Steve as she marches over to the American GIs. When she reaches them, towering over them by half an inch more, Peggy makes a point of looking at the tall, handsome, black man as she asks in a firm but warm tone. “Is there a problem here, gentleman?” 

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, ma’am.” The sandy haired white man replies with a lude smile. “Just makin’ sure…” 

Peggy turns a heated glare onto the sandy haired man before he can finish. “I wasn’t speaking to you, boy.” 

At first the man was too shocked to respond but then his anger flushed his pale cheeks and turned the tips of his ears red. “Mind your business, woman!” 

“By woman, Corporal, I think you mean Captain.” Peggy replies, indicating her rank. “While the Americans are our allies, you are guests in our country, and I expect you to act with the proper decorum as such a guest.”

Steve is smiling brightly as he watches Peggy. “Hey fellas, I see you’ve met Captain Carter.” He jerks his thumb towards a newsstand where a sandwich board still advertises the latest headlines. ‘Captain Britain awarded the Medal of Valor.’ with a picture of Peggy in full Captain Britain kit standing with Churchill, shaking his the man’s hand, a huge prideful smile on the old bulldog’s face. 

Peggy isn’t sure if it’s the fact that she’s a woman with a measure of power, a woman brazen enough to stand up against their self-presumption of dominance, or the fact that she was a Brit inviting black American soldiers to be her guests inside the dancehall, hell it was probably all of that and more that made the sandy haired corporal to try throwing a punch at her. She caught his fist easily and slowly closed her fingers around it until she saw his knees wobble. “Go back to the barracks, Corporal, and hope I don’t report your ungracious behavior to your CO.” 

They enjoy their evening with their new guests, even though the men warned Peggy that she shouldn’t have done that. There would be people who wouldn’t look favorability on her actions, and there could and probably would be consequences. Peggy smiles warmly and replies, “We all have value here, Sergeant. I will not stand by and allow any man or woman willing to risk their life in this war to be belittled or harassed.”

Steve smiles with such pride it’s light could power all of London. “Cap doesn’t like bullies.” 

“Bloody right I don’t.” Peggy replies, smiling back at Steve and throwing him a knowing wink. That was after all, normally his line. 

Peggy’s actions and honest sentiments earn her even more loyal soldiers who don’t care if she’s a woman or English, they don’t care if she’s called Captain Britain or not, she’s their Captain too. Peggy carries that truth with her always, which is why she always takes point, is always the first one to advance in battle. She would give these men and women as many opportunities to go home as she could. But war was living through hell, and sometimes being a super soldier stripped away parts of herself and she needed a reminder from time to time that she was more than just Captain Britain. In those moments, Peggy let herself give in to needs she would otherwise keep deeply buried. In those moments, in private secure places, Peggy allowed herself the indulgence of a heated kiss with Lorraine, Colonel Phillips’ personal aide.

It had been weeks since they’d had to part ways and after barely getting out of France unscathed this time, all Angie could think about was seeing Peggy. To be honest, her nerves were shot, and she really needed the calm reassurance her best friend offered. Peggy was so much better at handling all of this, or at least she seemed to be to Angie. Peggy never judged or belittled Angie for her moments of fear and uncertainty. Peggy reassured her that it was normal, that no one should get use to or comfortable with war. No matter what was on her mind or how she was feeling, Peggy was there for Angie. So, she searched all over for Peggy, needing to just be in her presence until they could find time to be alone to talk. Coming around a corner of a little used section of the underground bunker they were in, Angie caught sight of Peggy’s trademarked chestnut curls, and wondered for a moment what the heck Peggy was doing down here. Normally the only person this far out of the way was Howard because his tinkering often ended with things blowing up. For a moment Angie’s heart twisted up painfully in her chest at the stray thought of why Peggy and Howard might be hiding down here alone, but when she was close enough to see what was actually happening she felt the strangest wave of relief wash over her. She also felt as if she’d just walked into a wall and had the breath knocked out of her. 

At first catching Peggy kissing another woman flooded Angie with embarrassment at having stumbled onto her friend in an intimately private moment. It even caused Angie to make a little startled noise that had Peggy tearing away from Lorraine like she was diving away from gun fire. Then Angie was slammed with a whole storm of emotion that she didn’t know how to sort out in the moment, relief that it wasn’t Howard, excitement over discovering Peggy seemed to be as queer as she was, jealously because it wasn’t her that Peggy was kissing.

“Angie.” Peggy gasped, her dark eyes wide, her pulse racing and yet she was fairly sure her heart had stopped beating all together as cold icy fear washed over her. 

“Sorry.” Angie said quickly as she shook her head and began to back away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…” 

For a split second before Angie turned and fled, their eyes met, and that flooded Peggy with a million thoughts and feelings, all of which whirled around so fast it made her lightheaded. Then she felt a jolt of something that got her functioning again and she quickly darted after Angie. “Angie wait, please. Angie. Angie, I… I...”

Angie finally stops and turns to look at Peggy. Her dark curls are slightly tussled, her bright red lips are smudged, her tie is noticeably crooked against her shirt. Angie is simultaneously turned on and pissed off because she wasn’t the one to make Peggy look so disheveled. How many times had she fantasized about grabbing Peggy by the tie knot and pulling her into a kiss? Too many to count! “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” 

“Angie.” Peggy’s voice tries to hold back her panic, but her eyes betray her. She can’t lose Angie, she can’t lose their friendship, she simply can’t. 

“You throw me off something terrible, English.” Angie groans. “Maybe it's because you’re English? Maybe that’s why I couldn’t read you right?” Angie shakes her head and grunts. “If I’d known sooner, damnit, so much wasted time.” 

Peggy is ready and set to plead her case, to beg Angie not to hate her for being wrong, to plead with her not to think ill of her, to swear it was just a lingering flight of youthful indiscretion prolonged by the war, but then she stops and blinks, her heart picking up its frantic beat even more, her breaths slowing. “What?” 

“Lorraine’s not the right kinda girl for you, English.” Angie says as she looks into Peggy’s eyes, unblinking, unwavering. “She’s got a thing for power and you radiate power. You need a girl who wants you for you, not because you’re Captain Britain.” 

Peggy blinks again. “I do?” She’s just so confused and frightened in that moment that Peggy has no idea what’s going on. Not that she had any idea what was going on before this moment either, apparently. What was Angie trying to say to her? Was she tried to tell her that she… Did Angie, was Angie, could they be… “Angie, what… What are you saying?” 

Angie smiles as she closes the distance between them. “What I’m saying is,” Despite her outward confidence, Angie was petrified that what she was doing was going to blow up in her face. This moment would change things between them, but for good or ill she wasn’t sure. Reaching up she finally gives in to that long held back desire and wraps her fingers around the knot of Peggy’s tie and pulls her into a kiss that would make all other kisses pale in comparison. When she lets go and pulls away, she lets her eyes meet Peggy’s and she smiles. “You can do a hell of a lot better, Peg.” 

Peggy was too stunned to do anything but stand there gobsmacked as she watches Angie walk away. Angie had kissed her. Angie hadn’t shunned her in anger and disgust, quite the opposite in fact. Angie had implied that perhaps Peggy’s deeply buried feelings about her best friend could in fact be mutual. In fact, given that kiss, there really wasn’t much doubt that they were. Peggy blink yet again as she reached up to touch her lips where the warmth of Angie’s still lingered. “Bloody Norah. I’ve been a bit of a daft git haven’t I?”

“Yeah pal you really have.” Howard says with a crooked smirk from where he’s leaning against the wall behind her. 

Peggy jumps, her hand going to her chest as if to keep her heart from popping out of it, and then turns to glare. “HOWARD!” 

Howard laughs. “I could have told you months ago that Broadway,” Dum Dum’s nickname for Angie, “had a bad case of the lovesick blues for you. Now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

“That’s no concern of yours.” Peggy huffs at him and then softens gently. “What do you think I should do?” 

“Well, seeing as how you’re over the moon for her too. I’d say, quit pretending the way you feel about who you love is some kind of schoolgirl game, and go find a little happiness in this hell we’re all living in.” Howard tells her. “I mean damn, Pegs, if anyone’s earned a little happiness around here it’s you.” 

Peggy bites her lip. That’s a lot to think about. But then she smiles at him. “Thank you, Howard.” 

Howard just shrugs as he returns her warm smile gladly. “Anytime pal.” 

“But if you ever play voyeur with me again Howard, I will castrate you.” Peggy warms him.

Peggy needs time to sort herself out before she talks to Angie about anything personal. She’d spent so much of her young adult life knowing she was different in so many aspects of her life, including who she was attracted to, but also knowing that she would have to someday set aside the fantasies and desires of youth for the properness and responsibilities of adulthood. But now, for the first time in her life, Peggy was wondering if perhaps she didn’t have to bury a piece of herself to settle down and marry a man. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was starting to see the possibility of a future after the war was done with a certain young lady from Brooklyn with dreams of being on Broadway? Or maybe she was reading way too much into Angie’s kiss and the meaning behind what she’d said. There was really only one way to find out.

Angie was sitting on a bench under a tree, people watching as she ate her lunch. London had a lot of similarities to Manhattan in its big city ways and the energy it gave off, so Angie didn’t feel quite so out of place there. Not like the airfield and base, which were just outside a small village on a sprawling estate. It really couldn’t be further from anything she was used to, and it had taken her awhile to adjust to its slower pace. But now she was starting to notice that even in war time it had a serenity about it that she could maybe grow to really like. The gentle breeze brought a hint of Peggy familiar scent before Angie laid eyes on her. She smiled. “Do I want to know what’s even in meat paste?” 

“No.” Peggy replied softly. “You really don’t.” 

“Didn’t think so.” Angie said as she set her sandwich down on the wax paper it had been wrapped in. Then she turned to look at Peggy and smiled. “What’s up, English?” 

Peggy swallowed nervously as she returned Angie’s smile with a small but warm one of her own. “Would you like to take a walk with me, Angie?” 

She nods her approval as she cleans up what remains of her rationed lunch and puts it back in her little army issued satchel. Angie lets Peggy set the pace of their walk and whatever conversation they were about to have. It really wasn’t just the meat paste on white bread that had her picking at her food, it was the nervous and petrified knot in her stomach that had taken away her appetite. What if what she’d done had cost her Peggy? Just because she’d seen Peggy kissing another girl didn’t necessarily mean that Peggy was like her. She’d been around enough to notice that war time made people do things they wouldn’t normally do outside of the constant stress and terror they all found themselves in. A man on the battlefield facing down his death might find a little comfort and compassion in ways he wouldn’t normally, or a woman trying not to give into the panic as the ground above her head shakes and rumbles as bombs land all around them might find a little stability and a moment of peace in the arms of a likeminded young woman. 

“I was engaged before I accepted the S.O.E potion, before Michael died.” Peggy finally says once they’ve walked for a bit and she’s certain they’re alone on a cart path nowhere near the base or village. “Fred was a decent man, rather dull, a bit dim, but a good man. I knew I would never truly be happy with him, content perhaps, but never happy because he wasn’t what I really wanted. He was what my mother wanted for me, and she was so worried and afraid for Michael, I gave in. Michael was against it, he wanted more for me than just contentment that could so easily turn into resentment.” She pauses for a moment, her gaze meeting Angie’s before returning to the path stretched out before them. “I still thought that after the war I would have to make some compromises. I wouldn’t settle, I would marry a man I loved, but I would put away the other piece of who I am, the piece of me who looks at you in awe and wonder and thinks, I could so very easily love her.” 

“You make me sound like something special, English, I’m not.” Angie replies softly as she looks over to meet Peggy’s gaze. 

Peggy stops them and reaches for Angie’s hand. “You are to me.” 

The kiss is gentle and quick, but it holds so much promise. 

They continue walking, a little closer together than before, and after a few moments Angie says, “It’s possible you know, for people like us, it’s not easy but it can be done. My Ma, she’s got these two spinster aunts, only thing is, Auntie Carla isn’t actually related to anyone. She came over on the ship with Auntie Isobel when they were younger than we are, they’ve lived together ever since, and have only ever had one bed in their place.” Angie plucks a wildflower and gives it to Peggy who gives her a bright smile. “If I’ve learned anything during this whole thing it’s that we gotta hold tight to the people we love and we gotta fight for what makes us happy.”


	4. Chapter 4

Stolen moments alone were hard to come by, which meant each second Peggy and Angie had together was special. Navigating a romantic relationship with a partner of the same sex wasn’t easy during a normal time, let alone in war time, but they were managing as best they could because they both knew deep down that what was budding between them was something extraordinary. Peggy had returned from rescuing two platoons of a company that had been trapped behind enemy lines, damn near frozen solid, encased in layers of cold, dried, caked on mud that had harden on her like a rancid nutshell. But it was a small annoyance easily tolerated because she’d brought nearly a hundred men home to their loved ones. Though she did wish she’d gotten there sooner, several of the men had life threatening injuries, one, a young man named Sousa, had even lost a leg in combat. Peggy always did her best to reassure and encourage the wounded men, reminding them that surviving and living beyond the horrors of the war would be their ultimate victory against their foes. 

After getting cleaned up and warmed up with a cup of tea during her debriefing, Peggy pulled on her leather bomber jacket and headed out into the village. She knew that Angie had returned from her own mission, Phillips had filled her in on Angie’s reports, she’d been tasked with getting money and supplies to their spies in France and had done so with little interference. When Peggy couldn’t fine Angie on base, she had a fairly good idea where she might be. With the war stretching on with no end in sight, morale was getting really low, not only for the soldiers and sailors involved, but for the people they’d left behind as well. So, one of Angie’s favorite things to do was to slip down to the local pub in the evenings when she was off Uncle Sam’s clock, and sing for the uniforms and locals alike. Peggy tries to slip in unseen so she can listen, but Angie seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to her, and almost as soon as stepped through the doors, she feels those smokey blue eyes on her and Angie’s singing just for her. Peggy orders a pint and settle in at a corner table until Angie calls it quits for the evening. She watches Angie move through the crowd, stopping to hug an older woman who whispers what appears to Peggy as good news given the radiant smile Angie gives her back. After stopping at the bar to get herself a drink Angie finally makes her way over to where Peggy is waiting. She smiles, her smokey blue eyes alight at the sight of Peggy, which makes Peggy smile. 

“Safe and sound, English?” Angie asks as she takes a seat at Peggy’s table. It’s become their traditional way of greeting one another when they see each other again after missions, a coded phrase that both asks if the other is ok and lets the other know she is happy to have her back in her arms once more. 

Peggy nods, gladly returning Angie’s warm smile. “Safe and sound, darling.” She pauses for a moment, allowing Angie to take her in just as she had taken in Angie when she first came in, a visual reassurance that indeed all was well. Then she glances at the older woman Angie had stopped to speak too. “Good news I take it?” 

Angie beams proudly. “Her boy was one of the fellas you brought you home. She was tellin’ me her Alfred was alright and would be home soon, he’s recovering in one of those big castles turned hospitals. You did good, English.” 

“I just wish…” Peggy begins. 

“Nope.” Angie is quick to cut her off. “Don’t do that, Peg. You got to them as soon as you could, you brought them back, you did good.” 

Peggy knew there was no arguing about should haves and wished she coulds, so she nods, giving in to Angie’s demand to not second guess herself. “I’m due in London in three days. I was hoping you’d accompany me on the drive down.” 

“Sure, I’ll keep you company.” Angie replies easily. 

Steve would know where to find them if Peggy was needed in the next couple of days. Her parents had gone north to their family’s country cottage when the bombing started. They were doing their part by taking care of evacuee children, and while they didn’t have enough land to farm, they could keep chickens and hunt, and can fruit from the trees that grew around the cottage. That meant the Carter’s Hampstead home was empty and the perfect place for Peggy and Angie to steal a bit of time alone together. In these quiet moments with Angie, Peggy allowed herself to think of a future beyond the war. Perhaps a brownstone in Brooklyn so Angie could pursue her acting career, or a cottage in the English countryside where they can live undisturbed by a world who would not understand their love. Peggy had already made it clear to the powers that be that she would not be relegated to a lab rat or science experiment when the war was over, nor would she be used as a weapon by powerful governments chomping at the bit for more power. She had spoken to both Steve and Howard about needing an independent agency to continue dealing with the extraordinary things they were seeing. Germany couldn’t be the only power player with something like Hydra, so there would need to be someone out there who could take those entities on. 

Angie sighed pleasantly as she shifted beside Peggy on the bed, a warm, pleased smile on her smudged lips. “I hope whatever plans you’re makin’ in that head of yours includes a dog.” She teases as she reaches up and sinks her fingers into Peggy’s hair. “We could get a bulldog and name him Winston.” 

Peggy laughed hard before leaning down to kiss Angie happily, grateful for this moment of peace in the chaos of their lives. It was moments like this that helped Peggy get through the darkness and horrors she saw and fought every other moment of her life. And yet, as horrible as the war was, she had to admit to herself at least, that without its influence she and Angie would likely not be where they currently were. Without the realizations that life was to precious and short, and that every fleeting moment must be grabbed onto and held close, Peggy might still be under the beliefs that she would have to forever forego this part of herself. If not for the war, and Project Rebirth, and the shared experience of losing a brother, she and Angie may have never meet. And if not for the uncertainty of knowing if the next mission or the next battle might be their last, Peggy wouldn’t have rushed so quickly and readily into such an emotionally intimate relationship. 

“We can spend the rest of our lives raising bulldog puppies if that’s what you want, my darling.” Peggy tells the beautiful woman beside her. 

The next time they got to steal a few moments alone would be after Peggy’s meeting in London. It was going to take time for the recon teams to return with the intel they needed for their next assault, so Peggy was being sent Stateside to meet with the American president. She asked Angie to come with her, and of course Angie agreed. After meeting with the president in Washington, the pair made a detour through New York before heading back to London. They went to the cinema and Peggy blushed over the newsreel that showed her surrounded by the Howling Commandos, map spread out over the good of an army jeep, compass open to reveal the flower Angie had given her on their first romantic walk perfectly pressed into preservation and housed in the top of the compass. Peggy’s blush turned into a warm smile when she felt Angie take her hand in the dark and lean her head on her shoulder for a moment. Then they spent their last few hours before heading back to the front in the L&L. 

They spend Christmas huddled together in an abandoned farmhouse the boys nearly burned down trying to make Christmas pudding. No one asks where or how Angie scrounges up ham, potatoes, and a couple of pies. Angie has been making connections and building relationships in the area for months now. Which is why no one questions why Angie’s with them. All of the Howling Commandos know that the intel that most often saves their asses comes from Peggy’s agents, her little spy birds, making each of them Howlies too. 

“Come on, Broadway.” Dum Dum shoots Angie his best innocent smile. “Sing us a carol or two.”

Angie is all too happy to oblige, though Peggy had to remind them all not to get too loud. They were hiding after all. Steve knows that Angie’s presence on this particular trip is far more personal than knowing the area and having the contacts they needed to make their way to the mission site. He also knew that it wasn’t just because of the holidays either. On the march towards the target, they would be passing painfully close to the general area where Michael Carter had fallen in battle, and while Captain Britain was the embodiment of carrying on to victory with grace and power, Peggy Carter was still a little sister who missed her big brother very much. Her friends, the people who truly knew and loved her, Angie, Steve, Bucky, Dum Dum, all wanted to be there for her. 

Church bells of a village somewhere close ring out the New Year, and Peggy prays it has more moments with Angie, and that it comes with an end to the war. 

When dealing with Hydra rather than normal Nazis, Captain Britain and the Howling Commandos were always the ones called in to handle it because Hydra dealt with weapons and technology well outside the normal modern warfare. This technology and the people responsible for it needed to be collected and secured in a way that ensured it was properly studied and not just thrown out into the world at the detriment to human lives. On larger ops, once Peggy and the boys were finished, then the rest of the 107th could come in, but most of the time Peggy operated with just her personally selected unit. This included, much to the dismay and horror of the men in Washington, Peggy’s spy birds who Dum Dum had dubbed the Daughters of Liberty, despite the fact that only Angie was actually American. 

“Aww, Peg, it ain’t like we got a monopoly on liberty or anything.” Dum Dum had said once after catching her rolling her eyes at him. 

Jaime Bering, Peggy’s genius bird, had snorted. “You yanks sure as bloody hell act like you do.” 

Amanda Fraiser, Peggy’s pilot bird, had replied to Jaime in French and while most of the others didn’t understand, poor Gabe choked on the brown water that was meant to pass as ration coffee. 

While Captain Britain was every allied household’s darling and every allied soldier's inspiration be they American, British, or Commonwealth, Peggy Carter’s name was cursed by just about every senator, congressman, and general in Washington. Not only did she have the audacity to be a woman herself, but she had included women in her unit on the frontlines. Not only did she include women in her unit, but the 107th was integrated. That caused the most strife. Segregation and racism were a staple to most things American. While Britain was in no way innocent herself, given her colonialist ways, it pales in comparison to American’s Jim Crow. When Peggy became aware of how the Americans edited her newsreels to show her only with white men, she made a point of having Jones, Morita, Swayer, or Fraiser in her shots. When they tried to stop running Captain Britain newsreels all together, the American people demanded to know what was going on and the war department was forced to return to running them. Peggy hadn’t fully understood the weight of what she was trying to do until Gabe and Sam gave her a list of states that she shouldn’t visit after the war because there would more than likely be a price on her head. 

The only reason Peggy was allowed to continue on with American support and troops was because she simply got things done. She brought soldiers home to their families. She won allied victories, both on the battlefield herself and in the war rooms. And every time a newsreel featured her throwing the vibranium shield Howard had made her at an enemy soldier, with its Union Jack center encircled by red and blue stripes, or when she used it to flip trucks over her head, war bond sales went through the roof. There was also the fact that Peggy brought in new technology and scientists that would, if they wanted to remain alive with some kind of quality life, help the West in their pursuit of dominance and power. Scientists like Arnim Zola for example. 

Peggy watched time tick slowly on the delicate watch on her left wrist, a gift from her Nana, as she waited for the precise moment to begin their assault on Zola’s compound. He had slipped her grasp once. She wouldn’t let him get away again. Months ago, Peggy had found herself in the kingdom of Wakanda where she worked with its king, T’Chanda, to keep Zola and another Hydra agent from taking a rare and priceless Wakandan artifact. She had made quite the impression on the King, especially after offering to leave her shield behind, thereby returning the vibranium to Wakanda, but T’Chanda replied that she should keep it and continue to use it to do good. Peggy ran her hand over her beloved shield and smiled warmly, it would need fresh paint soon, but first down to business. 

“Ready Sergeant Rogers?” Peggy called out in hushed tones as she made her way towards the massive iron army green personal assault tank Steve was in. “We mustn't be late, Steve.” 

“Locked and loaded, Cap. Ready when you are.” Comes Steve’s reply from within his iron suit. 

Peggy leaps up and forward, grabbing hold of the hand holds welded onto the back of the iron giant just so she could do this. It was quite thrilling actually, riding through the air and into battle like a Valkyrie from ancient Norse mythology. Not that Peggy would openly admit to taking pleasure out of riding on Steve’s machine, not after the fit Angie threw the first time. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, English!” Angie had scolded her. “What happens if you fall off?” 

Peggy had blinked and in a moment of trying to be funny had replied, “I make a giant crater in the ground?” 

It was still hard for people to fully comprehend Peggy’s abilities, hell they didn’t even know what the full potential of her being a super soldier was yet, so Angie had every right to storm off in a huff because she was concerned about Peggy’s wellbeing. “Ma warned me about falling in love with soldiers like you! More noble heart than common sense!” Peggy had blinked again. It had been Angie’s first real expression of having fallen in love with her. Since then, they had both whispered it to one another in their quiet moments alone, and after this war was over, Peggy had every intention of asking Angie to continue loving her for as long as they lived. They could never wear wedding bands, but no one would question the bracelets Peggy had asked Howard to make out of the scraps of leftover vibranium he’d had.

The soldiers in the compound had no idea what was happening until it was too late. Suddenly out of nowhere this woman in red, white, and blue battle gear is landing on her feet in the center of the courtyard, the lights from the watchtowers glinting off the shield she brandishes moments before she stands and throws it, cutting men and weapons down one by one as the compound is attacked on multiple fronts by a giant tank like robot, a loud ginger haired man in a bowler hat woo-hoo-ing as he blasted enemy soldiers one by one with his shotgun, and sniper shots picking off soldiers in watchtowers and on weapons turrets. For several long minutes that seemed to many like hours, it was utter chaos, and while that chaos raged Captain Britain went in search of her quarry. 

With Zola captured and his work confiscated, Peggy ordered the compound destroyed to keep anything they might have missed out of enemy hands. It had been a victory, a personal one for Peggy. Arnim Zola had played a hand in the murder of Abraham Erskine and Peggy had wanted nothing more than to bring him and his boss to justice. Red Skull was still out there somewhere, but thanks to Angie’s intel, backed up by a recon team led by Bucky and Katie Danvers, Peggy’s charming sniper bird, Zola was on his way to a tiny cell in England so far underground he’ll never see daylight again. 

With their mission complete Peggy gives the order to rendezvous and regroup so they could start heading back to base. After months in the frozen wilderness of Europe, Peggy was looking forward to being back on English soil for a bit. There would be debriefs that would give them all time to catch their breaths, drink a little, dance a little, and remember what it was like to be twenty-something year old kids in London for a night and not soldiers at war. Steve, with his iron man suit, was her radio guy, the one who kept her in contact with everyone. Peggy watched as he sent out the call to the radio guys in the other teams, and at first everything seemed fine, but then there was the slightest shift in his boyish expression. In that moment Peggy knew something was wrong. “Steve?” 

She and Steve were Alpha team, the Commandos storming in right behind her were Bravo, her sniper team, Bucky and Katie, were Delta. Charlie was the cleanup team, the one held back in case they needed reinforcements and were responsible for any enemy runners who thought they could get away from capture. Steve’s concerned blue eyes look right into Peggy’s as he tells her, “No reply from Charlie.” 

Peggy’s stomach twisted into a painful knot that nearly doubled her over. Angie was assigned to Charlie. It had been her intel that had led them here and she had wanted to see the mission through to its preferred conclusion, the apprehension of Arnim Zola. Angie had known how badly Peggy had wanted him, especially after Wakanda and finding out that Zola had been a part of the plot to kill Erskine. Zola, for Peggy, was personal, and Angie had wanted to help get her some measure of closure. So, Angie had used the skills Peggy had taught her and was able to track down some viable leads that led them here to this cold, snow covered, valley. Peggy’s blood ran as cold as the icy stream cutting its way through the area as it rushed down from the far-off mountains. Climbing back onto the back of Steve’s iron suit Peggy ordered, “Go, Steve, go now!” 

Steve flew them to Charlie's last known location and Peggy didn’t even wait for him to land. She let go of the handholds and free fell to the ground, using her shield to crash through tree branches as she went. Enough of Zola’s men retreated for there to be signs of heavy fighting, including the bodies of fallen soldiers from both sides. Peggy’s heart began to twist up just as painfully as her stomach. Tracking the direction of the fight leads Peggy to a wounded young man, a new addition to her unit, just a kid, hardly old enough to be here. “Junior?” 

“Came at us hard, Cap.” Junior Juniper tells her. “Bunch of bucket heads protecting a fancy cap.” 

Bucket heads was Howlie for rank-and-file soldiers, while fancy cap was an officer. Peggy was quick to pull first aid packets out of one of the poches on her belt and start dumping bleed stop powder to Junior’s wounds. 

“Broadway called him Zemo.” Junior went on and then pointed towards a tree line just north of where they were. 

Peggy sensed them behind her, her Howlies and Steve, and gave them orders to help Junior and search for others. Then she went running in the direction Junior had pointed. Just past the trees, a couple of yards at most, the ground stopped, replaced by a ravine carved out by the steady flow of water making its way down from the mountains. It was a steep, sudden drop, straight down into the rushing icy waters below. Peggy’s breath puffed out in short wintry clouds as she stopped short, not from the running, but from the fear. “Angie?!” Her cry erupts out of her mouth in a cloud of white steam. “Angie?!” 

There’s blood in the snow, a knife, German issue. Peggy’s heart stops, her blood grows cold, freezes in her veins. The blood leads to the edge, the drop off, she follows it, pears over the edge and sees nothing. “ANGIE!”

There’s something in the snow at her feet. Peggy crouches down to pick it up. Dog tags. Angie’s dog tags, which she had on because she was here on the battlefield with the enemy because Peggy had allowed it. Peggy closes her hand around Angie’s tags, her eyes close, tears roll down her cheeks. She should have left Angie in England where she’d be safe. She should have left her in the USO troop, given her Betty Carver and let Angie play the hell out of Miss America. She had been selfish and irresponsible letting Angie get so involved and keeping her so close. And now Angie was… She was… 

“Peggy?” Steve’s voice was soft, but it still felt like a slap.

Peggy put Angie’s dog tags on and opened her eyes. Her voice was firm and stable as she issued orders to continue searching the area, and to get some people down into that ravine to look as well. She knew they couldn’t spend a lot of time looking, despite how badly she wanted to do nothing else until she found Angie, but as her heart shattered into pieces, the war raged on and Captain Britain was still needed. Though she and Steve would be the last to leave. 

Staff Sergeant Angela Martinelli of the U.S. Woman’s Army Corp was killed in action while tending to the wounded during battle, at least that’s what the formal record said. She was award medals posthumously for saving Junior’s life and for her bravery. Peggy wore her dog tags along with her own, never taking them off. She was numb when she wasn’t letting her anger and sorrow fuel her fight. She had dared to dream and, in a moment, where her focus was elsewhere, that dream had been ripped away from her.

Stepping into what had been their favorite London pub, it had been hit in an air raid while they were away, Steve carefully picked his way through the debris of it’s bombed out remains. “Are you sure she’s in here?” He asks Howard who is making his own way through fallen beams, broken glass, and busted and burned, tables and chairs. “Peggy isn’t really the drown her sorrows type.” 

Before Howard could reply he finds himself dodging a drinking glass that had been clearly aimed for his head. 

“You bloody, sodding, bastard!” Peggy’s voice howls in pain from behind the bar. 

Howard turns to look at Steve. “Yeah, pal, I’m sure she’s here.” 

“I can’t get drunk because of you, Howard!” Peggy growls at the man as she watches him, and Steve make their way over towards her. “Did you and Erskine know about this?” She pours more of what she’d found under the bar into another glass and downs it before throwing that glass at them too. “That turning me into your bloody super soldier would prevent me from getting drunk?” 

“Peggy.” Steve says softly, his heart hurting over the loss of Angie too, but knowing it was nothing in compassion to what his friend was feeling. “Peggy, this isn’t you, and it’s not what Angie would want.” 

Peggy’s eyes are full of pain and fire. “You don’t have a clue what Angie would want so sod off, both of you.” 

Steve watches her for a moment and then looks at Howard and asks, “Let me handle this. Go get Bucky, find her some food, come back in a bit.” Howard looks between them before he nods and Steve smiles. Once it’s just him and Peggy he turns to her, his voice soft but firm. Steve wasn’t a stranger to loss. “Peg.” 

“I should have known better.” Peggy says as she pours another shot. “People like me, we don’t get to have that kind of life, we don’t get to be happy in a life together. Those dreams are best kept tucked away secretly safe in our hearts, not let out into the bloody hateful world. I was a damn bloody fool to think otherwise.” 

Peggy looks up at him, their eyes meeting, and after a few moments Peggy’s start to fill with fear as she realizes the implications of what she’d said. Steve is quick to chase those fears away. “I feel the same way about Bucky that you and Angie felt for each other.” Peggy’s surprised but he has a feeling that it’s more about him knowing and understanding his own feelings, rather than his confession. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Peg. If it were Bucky, if our roles were reversed and I’d lost Bucky, I don’t think I could live with that.” 

“How many times must I tell you that you are stronger than you give yourself credit for, Steve.” Peggy scolds lightly. She sighs and for the first time lets her tears fall in front of someone. “I promised her we’d get a puppy.” She half laughs, half cries. “A quiet life and a bulldog puppy.”

“I’m so sorry, Peg.” Steve replies as he reaches for her hand, holding it tightly in his own. 

Peggy takes a deep breath, one more shot, and then declares, “No more. I will not lose one more person that I love to this bloody war, because I am going to put an end to it.”

“You won’t have to do it alone, Peggy.” Steve tells her. “Buck and I, we got this saying, we’re with each other until the end of the line. We’re with you too, Peggy, until the end of line.” 

“Damn little punk’s right, Cap.” Bucky says as he and Howard make their way over to the bar. “We got your back, always, until the end of the line.” 

Her boys, her brothers, what would she do without them? Howard had been her friend before the serum, quickly becoming the annoying little brother she never asked for, despite the fact that he’s four years older than her. Peggy knew Howard would do just about anything for her because she was probably the only person he loved almost as much as he loved himself. Her sweet Steve, the little guy from Brooklyn who should have been an artist, but his big brave heart just would not let him sit by and watch others suffer at the hands of evil. She had shown him kindness and believed in him when no one else would, and for that he admired and loved her. Bucky, who hid a good heart and troubled soul behind his street tough bravado, who like herself, struggled with thoughts, desires, and feelings deemed unnatural and sinful. Peggy wasn’t normally the type to meddle, that had been Angie’s thing, but she vowed to herself that if she could make Steve and Bucky see what was right in front of their noses she would. If she couldn’t come out of this war with a happy heart, at least they could. Pouring four shots of what turned out to be Schnapps, Peggy raised a glass and her boys followed suit. “To Angie Martinelli, who fought for what is right against the vilest of men, the talented girl from Brooklyn who once had Broadway lights in her eyes, the brave woman who stole Captain Britain's heart, who will always be loved, and will never be forgotten.”


	5. Chapter 5

Churchill once said, if you’re going through hell, keep going. War was hell, having to keep carrying on, trudging through that hell day after day after day, after losing someone you loved to it, was a bloody waking nightmare. But Peggy was nothing if not the finest of British soldiers, she kept marching on, kept pushing straight through hell, and slowly but surely an end to it all was starting to take shape on the horizon. 

The allied armed forces were working towards something that would finally put an end to nearly six years of bloodshed, death, and destruction. Of course, Peggy was right there in the center of it all, helping the allied forces break supply chains and hinder enemy troop movement. Captain Britain brazenly dropped into occupied cities, literally dropping from the sky to land on her feet, shield held prominently, as she looked evil in the eye and spat on its existence. While the death knell rang for the Germans, a greater menace threatened to emerge from its corpse. Hydra led by Johann Schmidt was no longer content with just being the Nazis’ science division, no, Schmidt saw himself as the perfect power to conquer the world. Peggy wasn’t about to let that happen. 

Steve worries about her, about the way she uses her grief over losing Angie to fuel her into taking on seemingly impossible fights, like dropping into the heart of Berlin for example. For as long as they lived, Peggy’s lads would remember the sight of her standing, defiant, strong, brazen, and ready to fight, in front of Brandenburg Gate in Berlin. And so would the rest of the world, that image captured by one of the Howling Commandos with his camera, would be in history books, museums, and documentaries for decades to come. Attacking the Nazis army right there in the heart of a would-be empire, lead by the allied symbol of hope and bravery, put the Axis on notice that they were about to lose this war. Rumor has it that as Hitler fled the city, he cursed Captain Britain until his dying breath. Steve worries about her because he knows that even with the end of the war insight, Peggy’s war would not be over until Hydra was eliminated, because it had been Hydra who’d taken Angie from her. 

“You were able to make the modifications we talked about?” Peggy asks as she circles her motorbike, a 1942 Harley-Davidson WLA Liberator, a gift from Eisenhower after Captain Britain saved his ass on the battlefield despite all the shit-talking he’d done about her. It really burned the American General’s butt that a woman was leading the allies to victory, and until Peggy had saved him, he had done everything he could to limit or remove any credit rightfully belonging to her. Life would never go back to the status quo if women knew a woman had won the war, but it was too late to stop Captain Britain’s influence. From the land girls of England to the bomb girls of Canada, to the Rosie the riveters and Wendy the Welders of America, and all across the Commonwealth, women were about to put up a fight against quietly going back to their kitchens. 

Howard nods as he flips up his wielding glasses. “It’s all set for this crazy scheme of yours, pal.”

“Crazy scheme it may be.” Peggy replied. She picks up the helmet that went with the bike, blue with the white star painted in the center and rubs her thumb against the fading painted star. “But we’ve no other choice, Howard. If we don’t take the fight to Schmidt now, he could slip through our fingers in the chaos of the war coming to an end, and we can’t allow that to happen.” 

“Cap’s right.” Bucky speaks up from the other side of the room where he’s preparing his rifles for the oncoming assault. “Intel says that whatever Red Skull is planning, it’ll make the last six years seem like a day at Coney Island.” 

Steve’s head pops out of the top of his iron suit. “No one is saying we shouldn’t take the fight to Schmidt while we have the chance. The crazy part is sending Peggy in alone.” 

Peggy turns her warm brown eyes upwards to look at her friend. “This is the biggest, most protected compound we’ve ever hit. Schmidt himself will be there. This is the only way this is going to work, and it will work, Steve.” She gives him a small but warm smile. “And then, when this all over, when it’s all said and done, you and Bucky can go home and live your lives, and Howard can get back to imagining a future full of synthetic men and robot maids and flying cars.”

The three men look at each other before Steve asks, “What about you, Peggy?” 

“Yeah Cap,” Bucky adds in. “What are you going to do when all this bullshit is over?” 

Before losing Angie her dark eyes would have lit up with hope and all the wonderful daydreams she’d allowed herself to have. But now Peggy simply replies, “I suppose that depends on what the S.S.R wants to do with me. This particular war will be over, but there will always be men out there seeking power, men willing to do whatever it takes to get that power, and I’ll be there to make sure they fail.” 

No more dreams of country cottages or red brick brownstones, no more thoughts of surprise puppies and bits of jewelry on opening nights, no more wishful flights of fancy about a future that will never be. Peggy had a job to do. She was given these remarkable abilities to serve and protect, to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves, and that’s what she would do. Starting with taking down the man who had come to be known as the Red Skull. 

Riding through the forest Peggy cleared her mind of everything but the battle that awaited her. As she felt herself become more and more centered and focused the faster her motorbike went, speeding towards her goal of putting a final end to Hydra and its insane leader. When she heard the growl of the German motorbikes starting to surround her, she allowed herself a little smirk before unleashing the new features her American built Harley-Davidson had to offer. A choke line launched from the back and secured into two trees, a blast of flame that boosted her speed while taking out her pursuers, little projectile explosives she could launch at the gits in front of her who were trying to slow her down. The front of the bike even had a place for her shield, which she pulled from her back and slotted into place as the road narrowed as she came up to the entrance of the compound. Ducking weapons fire, Peggy launched two small missiles at a tank just before using the thick concrete barricade that served as the compound's only way in or out as a ramp. Despite herself, she did hope no one heard her do it, she let out a very Dum Dum like woo-hoo as she launched into the air. She was very fond of this bike and her Howlies were under a standing order to retrieve it for her if they could do so safely when she herself could not. Leaping from the bike, launching herself shield first into an enemy soldier, Peggy frowned. She was really going to miss her bike because there would be no retrieving it this time. As she fought against the soldiers tasked with guarding the gates, her bike zeros in on the main blast door, blowing it up in a magnificent fireball. 

Two men were left standing and that’s only because Peggy was a lot of things thanks to the serum, but fireproof was not one of those things. She was captured and marched through the compound to a cavernous room full of art and softly playing classical music. Standing near the massive wall of windows overlooking the snowy mountain peaks was the very man she was hoping for. 

“You are quite remarkable, meine Schwester.” Johann Schmidt’s voice is calm, even gentle, as he turns to face the woman who has caused them so much trouble. “Quite remarkable indeed.” 

“I am not your sister.” Peggy spat while she was being forced onto her knees by at least a half dozen pairs of hands.

Schmidt had long abandoned his false face, reveling in his true form, which made even a genuine smile look sinister. “Were we not cast into the fires created by the same father and reborn his perfect son and daughter? Are we not both the children of Abraham?” When he was close enough to touch her Schmidt cupped Peggy’s face in his gloved hand. “We are gods, my dear Captain, Odin and Frigg reborn, they will worship us and our sons.” 

“You’re even more insane than I thought,” Peggy replies as she looks into his cold, soulless eyes. “If you think I’d give you anything but a one-way ticket to hell.” 

“Who said you’d have a choice?” Schmidt laughed. “Perfect as you are, meine Schwester, you are only a woman.” 

Peggy smiled sweetly up at him despite the shutter of disgust that rolled over her skin. “If not presented with a choice, I will always make my own, and today, I choose to kick your arse.” 

She heard the anchors sink into the rock of the mountain and the grinding hiss of the zip lines moments before the shots that weakened the glass. Pushing herself up from her knees with as much force as she could, Peggy sent the men who thought they were holding her down, flying. The look of surprise on Schmidt’s face before his anger hit was priceless. Peggy smiled at him and he roared, enraged, just as her Howling Commandos came crashing through the windows. 

“Woo-hoo!” Dum Dum exclaimed as he landed on his feet while pumping his next shotgun blast. 

“Stop woo-hoo-ing and open the gates, you great ginger git!” Peggy scolded while punching Hydra Nazis in the face. 

Dum Dum laughed while Bucky called out, “Hey Cap, gonna need this.” 

Peggy smiled as she easily caught her shield before taking off after Schmidt who was fleeing. 

The entire mountain complex erupted into chaos as the entire 107th regiment emerged from the forest, swarming, and overtaking the enemy. Peggy does her best to keep up with her target, but Schmidt’s men are all too willing to put themselves between her and their leader. The few extra minutes it takes her to get to the hangar is all the time Schmidt needs to get into a massive plane and start taxing down the runway. Peggy runs after the plane as hard and as fast as she can and just misses as she reaches to grab hold of something that would allow her to hitch a ride before it takes off. 

“Need a ride?” Steve’s voice booms as he appears over the edge of the mountain side runway. 

“My knight in drab green tank armor.” Peggy replies as she launches herself onto her perch on his back. When they catch up to the plane Peggy has Steve go high enough and at an angle that will allow her to crash through the windscreen. She then orders him back to the fight. Steve protests, but Peggy says she can handle Schmidt on her own, the 107th and the Howlies need him, and then she makes it an order before she jumps. Schmidt must have caught sight of them because just as Peggy jumps, he fires on Steve, hitting him, and Peggy’s suddenly flooded with fear and anger. If it were any other man, a normal man, the way Peggy crashed through the windscreen, her boots connecting with Schmidt’s chest at that speed, it would have killed them instantly. But Schmidt had been right, they had both been changed, enhanced in the same basic ways, so Schmidt might have struggled a bit as he got to his feet, but he did get back on his feet ready to fight. 

“You cannot possibly defeat me, woman!” Schmidt screams at her. 

“Watch me.” Peggy replies as she uses her shield to deflect the blasts of his weapon. 

It’s been a while since Peggy was in a hand-to-hand fight that actually caused her real pain, and for a few moments she let the physical pain mingle with her emotional pain. Then she channeled all of that pain into her fighting, swinging her shield with such power and speed, that when it hit Schmidt it cracked his skull and sent him flying backwards into the controls, sending the plane on a sickening nosedive. Peggy was lifted off her feet and quickly reached out for anything she could grab on to. When the plane leveled off, she found herself in a good position to launch herself once again at Schmidt boots first, lengthening the crack in his skull. Schmidt rants about the future and being gods, and yells at her over her small mindedness when it comes to serving kings and nations that are weak and destined to fall. In the midst of their fighting the casing around the strange glowing blue cube that was the source of Schmidt’s power and plans, is broken and Peggy watches as Schmidt reaches for it the way a child would grasp desperately for their mother’s hand or a drowning man for a lifeline. 

Peggy stands back and watches as tendrils of blue energy drift about the plane like snakes slithering over the floor and walls and beams. She watches breathlessly as the cube glows brighter and brighter, its power expanding until it engulfs Schmidt like liquid fire. He screams in anguish and agony as a beam of light extends from the cube, upwards through the haul of the plane and into the heavens. Peggy watches in horror as Schmidt disintegrates before her eyes. Then she raises her shield as she drops down into a crouch behind it just in time as the cube explodes into a blinding light. She hears the thunk of something hitting the grating of the floor and slowly lowers her shield to peer over its edge. The cube sits there on the grating, dimmer but still softly glowing, she cautiously stands and moves towards it but stops. It’s melting the metal around it and all Peggy can do is watch as it eats its way through the hull before falling into the ocean below.

Shaking off everything that had just happened Peggy rushes to the cockpit to figure out what her status was. The plane took massive damage, but what was more concerning was its payload, bombs with targeting locks on every major allied city one could think of. Flicking on the radio Peggy began tuning into a frequency she knew her boys would be on. “This is Captain Carter, can you read me? Rogers, are you there? I repeat, this is Captain Carter...” 

“Peggy!” Steve’s voice finally responds as the radio crackled. 

Relief washed over her as Peggy took a ragged breath. “Steve. Steve, are you alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, Peggy, I’m alright.” Steve’s voice replies. “Suits a little trashed but I’m fine. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” Peggy replies as she taps a finger against the navigation screen as if that would make it work properly again. “The plane took heavy damage in the fight. Schmidt is dead.” She looks out the shattered windscreen at the endless sea and sky laid out before her, and she sighs softly as realization hits. She knows what she must do. “Steve, listen to me. This plane is full of explosives meant to take out most of the world's major cities. I…” 

“I’ll patch Howard through, I’ll…” Steve’s voice cuts in. 

“There’s no time, Steve.” Peggy tells him as she does her best to keep her voice calm, firm, and commanding. “They all seem to have targeting systems, if they launch, there’s no way to stop them all. I’m going to force the plane down into the ocean, it’s the only way to prevent the bombs from taking out their targets, I’m afraid.”

“Peggy, Peggy, there’s got to be another way.” Steve pleads. “I’ll get in the suit, I’ll come get you, just hold tight!” 

Peggy smiles at him despite knowing he can’t see her. “Steve.” Her voice is still steady, but it’s softened as she speaks to him as his friend and not his Captain. “Steve, darling, will you do me a favor?” 

There’s a long pause, the radio crackles, then Steve replies. “Yeah, Peggy, anything for you.” 

Peggy takes her compass out of her pocket and opens it to reveal Angie’s flower. “When this is all over, when we’ve finally won this bloody war, and you and Bucky have returned home safe and sound.” She has to pause to keep her voice from cracking. “Will you two go see a picture for us.” There was no need to explain who the us was, Steve would know she meant herself and Angie. “And afterward, would you go to the L&L?” 

Steve’s voice does crack as he replies. “Cheeseburger, fires, and chocolate shakes.” 

“Yes, that’s right.” Peggy brushes her thumb over the pressed flower and then closes her compass and puts it back in her pocket. “And don’t forget the pie.” 

Steve’s laugh does nothing to hide his tears. “Buck would never forget the pie.” 

“Thank you, darling.” Peggy says softly. “For everything.” She closes her eyes. “Goodbye Steve.” 

She cuts the radio, pushes hard on the yoke, pressing it forward, sending the plane into another steep dive. Then she pulls out their dog tags, hers and Angie’s, and wraps her hand around them. Peggy closes her eyes. “Don’t be cross with me, love. I know this isn’t the ending you would want for me, but this is the way it must be. Perhaps, just perhaps, we’ve done enough good that I’ll see you soon my darling.” 

Peggy had long ago written a letter to her parents asking their forgiveness and saying her goodbyes in case something like this were to happen. Steve and Bucky would deliver it to them, and she hoped her mother and father would be able to forgive her someday. So, her final thoughts before oblivion overtook her were of Angie and the moments of happiness they had shared in a world at war. A world, she now prayed, that would know peace.


	6. Chapter 6

Peggy Carter’s first conscious thought was the same as her last. Angie. Her heart ached so badly that it was hard to breathe. Peggy Carter’s second conscious thought was, ‘Am I breathing? How the bloody hell am I breathing?’ Her heart was beating steadily, her breaths were slow and deep, and she felt warm which surprised her most. The water had been so cold, the kind of cold that settles into your bone marrow and stays there. That feeling was gone, replaced with warmth and comfort, a soft surface beneath her, dry warm clothes, and a blanket over her. Was she, by some blessing or curse, alive? How was she alive? Peggy remembers being in the freezing water, of struggling as the plane sank, and then blacking out to memories of her time spent with Angie to soothe her into nothingness. The plane crashed in the middle of nowhere and sank fast with no way to locate it. So how was she alive? 

Not knowing what her situation was, she had no idea where she was, or who had found her, Peggy chose to, as Dum Dum would have put it, play possum. She remained perfectly still, keeping her breathing slow and steady and her heart rate calm. As she lay on what was clearly a bed, beneath a sheet and light blanket, she took in as much as she could using all of her senses but sight, not wanting to risk opening her eyes and alerting anyone to the fact that she was awake. The air smelled too clean, the pillowcase, sheet, and blanket smelled of disinfectant, and the clothes she wore felt strange, loose and comfortable, but of a fabric she wasn’t used to. A hospital of some kind? She didn’t hear anything she could associate with a hospital, but that could be because of the radio that seemed to be playing nearby. The songs were all familiar, comforting, emotional. There’ll Always be an England by Vera Lynn made her think of Angie goading her into singing it after Dum Dum’s rendition of Remember Pearl Harbor one night after way too much to drink. Angie would sing Can’t Take that Away from Me to her all the time, and she’d taught Steve how to dance to Harry James and Glenn Miller. They were her favorite songs, and they were playing on a loop

Peggy confirmed she was in a medical facility after the first time someone came in to check her vitals. She remained still, unresponsive to their touch. Her instincts were telling her that she needed more intel before acting or reacting. She needed verification that she was in allied hands, but what she got was the whisper of an accent in the distance when a door was opened that was not an allied accent. She needed to get out of there as quickly and as quietly as she could. She could not, would not, allow anyone access to her rewritten DNA and the secrets held within her very cells. The morning nurse who checked on her always opened a window to her right and from the sounds coming up from the street, it wouldn’t be too much of a drop. She just had to assume she was being watched and needed to pinpoint just the right moment to make her move.

Patience was often the best, most crucial, skill a spy could have, and Peggy was a master of many skills. She’s calculated the best time to risk an escape and then when the time came, she bolted. She moved inhumanly fast from the bed to the window, spared a second to look around the room, confused at its decor, and then flung open the window and looked down and smirked. She’d dropped off Steve’s iron suit from heights greater than this, so she climbed through the window and dropped. She landed, in bare feet, in an alley, took another second to pick which way to run and then ran. 

It was all so bewildering, the bright even in daytime lights, the vehicles, the noise, the people passing by, but Peggy couldn’t get caught up in being overwhelmed and confused. She just ran, and when it finally hit her, where she was, though she wasn’t sure how that was possible, she ran for where she remembered there being a subway station. She practically leapt down the stairs, over the turnstiles, and then onto a train just pulling out. It wasn’t until she found a place to sit in the corner of the subway train that she took stock of herself. That’s when she noticed the logo on her shirt, which made her blink. The S.S.R eagle? Reaching up she pressed a hand to the logo as if that could somehow bring her comfort in her confusion. What was going on? What was happening to her? Feeling something hard under her shirt Peggy reached for the chain around her neck and tugged out her dog tags, only her dog tags, and that’s when she gave in to the fear and uncertainty. She brings her legs up, pressing the tops of her thighs into her chest, and curls up in her subway train seat. Tears burn her eyes until she closes them, and for a moment she allows her body to react to her emotions with a gentle trembling. Then she pulls herself together and makes her way to the one place that would make sense to her.

The L&L Automat and Diner was the very last of its kind, a historical landmark, renovated to modern appliances but otherwise kept just as it had been in the 1940s. Peggy had no way of knowing this yet, but Howard Stark had bought the building at the end of the war and gifted it to Steve who maintained it in her and Angie’s memories. The green neon lights over the doors were like a beacon to her, and as she stepped inside Peggy felt herself choking on a sob. While the world outside was overwhelming and strange, the L&L seemed to be just as she remembered it. Making her way to a table near the door but out of sight she slipped onto the padded booth bench and hid her face in her hands. This was clearly New York, but everything was vastly different and strange, and Peggy just couldn’t wrap her head around what was going on.

She isn’t sure how long she’s sat there. She’s aware of the way she palms the butter knife when she feels someone approaching. It’s the waitress, she brings her a water and then a coffee and a warm, “Looks like you could use this.” Peggy thanks her but tells her she can’t pay. The young woman smiles, her gaze falling to Peggy’s dog tags and says, “My sister was in Afghanistan. I know the look of a vet having a bad day.” 

Peggy blinks. Afghanistan? She manages a small thankful smile. “Thank you.” 

She stares into her coffee as she sips it. It’s really good, surprisingly good, so much better than the last time she’d had coffee. Her mind recalls the memory, her, Steve, Bucky, and her Howlies, in the snowy woods at the base of a mountain with their rations. Instant coffee mixed into barley warm water, not enough sugar packets to make it more than brown water, giving Steve her powder non-dairy creamer packet for his. Her thoughts and emotions are in chaos, and she knows that she needs to get herself under control so she can plan her next move, but in the moment she’s barely able to keep the tears out of her eyes. When she once again feels someone drawing near, she grips her butter knife again, and tenses when she feels someone slip into the booth across from her. 

“Hiya Peggy.” 

The voice is familiar and yet it to is different. Peggy grips her knife even tighter as she dares to look up. She blinks, the man sitting across from her is old, very old, and yet his eyes and his smile, they’re just as she remembers them, but that’s not possible. That’s not bloody possible! 

“We did as you asked.” The old man says gently as he looks into her eyes, his smile warm and happy, his eyes bright and wet with the start of tears. “Bucky and I, we did what you asked us to do, Peggy. When we finally got home, we went to the pictures, we saw The Bells of St. Mary with Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman, and then we came here. We had cheeseburgers, fries, and chocolate shakes. We talked about how much we missed you and Angie, how much we wished you were there with us. Then Bucky ordered rhubarb pie, and I got the apple.” 

She stumbled over his name because there was no way this was really him. It couldn’t be him. This man was older than her grandfather had been, and he’d lived to be seventy-six. “Steve?” 

Steve Rogers smiled warmly as he reached into the inside breast pocket of his coat and pulled out a small brown envelope which he sat gently on the table between them. “These belong to you.” When Peggy continues to stare at him with disbelief and confusion in her dark eyes, he opens the envelope and carefully empties it contents. “I’ve kept them safe for you.” 

Michael’s compass, her Nana’s watch, and another set of dog tags. Peggy’s hand snaps up the dog tags and looks at the stamped name. Closing her hand around the metal she brings it to her chest. “Angie.” 

“You found those in the snow where she died.” Steve says softly. “You put them on and never took them off because you loved her, you were in love with her, and you two were going to have a life together after the war.” 

Peggy choked on a sob. Steve was the only one she had ever admitted that too. “Steve. It really is you. How?” 

“You’ve been asleep for a long time, Peggy.” Steve tells her as he reaches out a weathered, age spotted hand, and smiles when she takes it. “It’s been sixty-six years, Peg.” 

Sixty-six… Peggy gasps as her mind wheels with this new bit of information and then lands on a late-night conversation she’d had with Erskine. “Protective system of regeneration and healing.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “Your body went into a kind of hyper-hibernation while you were frozen in ice in the Antarctic.” 

“Not that it would do any good, but I could use something stronger than coffee.” Peggy replies as she puts Angie’s dog tags back on. Then she reaches for the compass and opens it. Relief washes over her to see Angie’s flower still pressed into the top. Finally, she puts Nana's watch back on her wrist. 

“I’m sure I can find a bottle of something somewhere.” Steve says with a smile that softens before he adds, “There’s a lot to tell you, Peg.” 

“Where was I being held?” Peggy asks as she follows Steve out of the diner. He’s using a cane to aid his walking and its unsettling to her. She’s still twenty-four, but sixty-six years have passed, so Steve’s ninety-three now. Bloody fucking hell. 

“A medical rehabilitation center.” Steve answers as he walks beside her as they exit the L&L. He guilds them towards a waiting car not too far from the door. “We thought it would be easier for you to wake up in familiar surroundings, we were very meticulous about it. What spooked you?” 

“An accent.” Peggy answers honestly. 

Steve frowned a bit. “None of your medical personnel should have an accent outside of American or English. I’m sorry, Peggy. We really did want to ease you into this.” 

There’s a young woman in a black suit and white shirt with a few too many buttons undone at the collar, standing by the car they’re approaching. She’s about five foot seven, thin, but muscular. Her hair is dark auburn, and her eyes are hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Peggy tenses at the sight of her until she feels Steve’s hand on her arm. 

“It’s alright, Peggy, she’s with me.” Steve tells her before looking at the young woman who is opening the car door and smiling warmly. “This is Ruth Jarvis, she’s been saddled with taking care of the old geezer who no one thought would live past his twenties, and yet here he is at ninety-three, still kickin’ and in the way.” Steve smiles at the young woman. “Ruthie, I’d like you to meet my best girl. Captain Margaret Carter.” 

“It is an honor, Ma’am.” Ruth Jarvis says with an easy smile for Peggy before looking at Steve with an amused smirk. “No one thinks you’re funny, you know.” 

Steve laughs as he waves towards the open car door for Peggy to go first. “I think I’m funny and that’s what matters.” 

Peggy misses the affectionate eyeroll the young woman gives him. Once the door is closed, she looks at Steve and says, “Didn’t Howard speak of a man named Jarvis?” 

“Edwin Jarvis.” Steve nods. “Ruthie is his granddaughter.”

Bringing up Howard pinches at Peggy’s heart as she looks at the old man sitting beside her with Steve’s vibrate eyes and kindhearted smile. She didn’t really doubt that this old man was her Steve. She would know those eyes and that smile anywhere, and he’d known about her and Angie, but Peggy still couldn’t wrap her mind around this not being some strange dream or perhaps a particularly cruel ring of hell. Rather than being given the sweet oblivion of death where she could be reunited with her love, Peggy had simply been asleep and now she was faced with a world not only without Angie in it, but one where everyone she once knew and loved had lived on and grown old, and some she knew, had to have died. Beside her, as this new New York she found herself in passed by the window of the car, Steve was trying to reassure her that she was safe, and everything would be alright. He was trying to explain something to her, but her thoughts and emotions continued to tassel about like small boats on stormy seas. One word Steve had said, one he’d repeated a few times now, did finally catch Peggy’s attention. Turning to look at him she blinked confused doe brown eyes. “What about my shield?” 

“Oh, no, Peggy, not your actual shield, though we do have that. It was found at your side when they found you.” Steve replies warmly as they pull up in front of a tall building. “Though that is where the name came from. S.H.I.E.L.D. It used to stand for Supreme Headquarters, International Espionage and Law-Enforcement Division, but now it’s Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” 

The car door opens, and Steve steps out before reaching back in to offer her a hand like the gentleman he is. Her dark eyes take in her surroundings as she steps out onto the bustling sidewalk, she’s on edge, even with Steve’s presence beside her. She looks down at him and he smiles up at her and she tries her best to smile back but she simply can’t. He gently guides her towards the front doors and she lets him because her heart knows she can trust him, withered and old he may be, but he was still her Steve. 

“It’s your dream, Peggy.” Steve tells her with great pride as they enter the building. “Remember? An independent agency tasked with protecting the world from enemies like Hydra. That’s what SHIELD is, Peggy. This,” He holds out his hand to indicate the bustle of people around them that slowly comes to a standstill as people in dark suits start to take notice of them. “Is what we hoped you would have done. This is SHIELD.” 

Peggy can hear the soft whispers and murmurs of, “Is that really her?” and “Captain Britain, oh wow.” and “Holy shit.” She can feel them watching her as Steve steers her over to a row of elevators and it makes her uncomfortable. 

“Howard, Bucky, and I, we started SHIELD for you, Peggy.” Steve said as the elevator ascended. “To do all the things we talked about to keep anything like the war from ever happening again.” 

As they stepped off the elevator Peggy was about to ask if they had managed to succeed but she was cut off by the loud booming voice of an angry man that drifted from a room down the hall. 

“Can someone explain to me why eyes were taken off of Carter for even a half a fucking second?” The voice asked. “What part of fucking master spy with superhuman fucking abilities did you idiot sandwiches not understand?”

“Stand down, Fury.” Steve says as they walk into the room, his gentle voice shifting to one far more commanding and firm. “Captain Carter just needed to stretch her legs. Everything is under control.” 

The man that spins around to look at them is six foot two, broad shouldered, and imposing in his black uniform and black leather trench coat. He wears a patch over one eye, the other is a rich brown. The man is bald, but there is a ridiculous patch of black facial hair around his mouth that isn’t a beard nor a mustache. There is something strangely familiar about the face behind the ridiculous facial hair and in the intense way he’s looking at her, but she isn’t making the connection. Peggy recalls Steve addressing him as Fury when they walk in and her eyebrow raises. “Fury?” 

“Nicholas J Fury.” The man says as he presses a button that turns off a screen behind him, making the gathered group of doctors, nurses, and agents at the rehab center disappear. He smiles as he approaches them and adds, “Junior” He smirks at the look of shock Peggy tries to hide. “Surprised I’m black?” 

“No,” Peggy replies honestly and with ease. “I’m shocked that Nicky actually settled down enough to marry and have a son.” 

Fury laughs. “I think that part shocked him too.” Stepping closer to the legendary Captain, Fury holds out his hand and when she takes it, he smiles. “Welcome back, Captain.”

There were medical tests, because of course there were going to be bloody medical tests. Steve reassured her that nothing was done outside of making sure she was recovering while she was unconscious. Her doctor, a young woman around the same age Peggy appeared to be, who was SHIELD’s leading expert on Project Rebirth, also reassured her that there was no testing done without her consent. 

“We all still have a lot of respect for Director Rogers.” Jemma Simmons says in a sweet voice that reminds Peggy of home, and bright, warm, smile. “And I personally have a great amount of respect for you, Captain Carter. I admired you greatly growing up, I still do. You’re a national hero, you know. Churchill spoke at your memorial, and the Queen was in attendance too, though she was only Princess Elizabeth then.”

Peggy rather like Jemma, she was wickedly smart, and behind her abundant sweetness she was rather witty as well. She’d also brought Peggy her first proper cup of tea in six decades, real black tea, not that pouch of scraps shite that came with the meals the rehabilitation nurses brought her, though even that was better than field ration tea. Physically Peggy was as perfect as the day she stepped out of Howard’s machine with Erskine’s serum in her very DNA. Psychologically, well, Peggy had been in frozen hibernation for over sixty years. The world she found herself in now was not the world she’d left behind. Life had moved on, her friends, the people she loved, they all lived on without her. 

“Bucky stayed in the army for a few more years, serving with the Howlies that stayed in as well.” Steve told her over dinner in her room in the rehab center that first night after she’d promised Fury she wouldn’t leave again, at least for now. After realizing that Peggy’s last meal had been field rations, Steve sent out for steaks and baked potatoes, and even talked Ruthie into bringing him a bottle of bourbon from home. It had been a gift from Dum Dum that he’d been saving, and he couldn’t think of a better reason to crack it open than Peggy’s return. “I got out of the military but stayed with Phillips and the S.S.R. while I took classes at night.”

“What about your art?” Peggy had asked him with a soft frown. Steve had the heart of an artist, but the war had gotten in the way of him pursuing that. She’d always hoped that when the war ended, he’d follow that artist’s heart of his.

Steve had smiled. “I did a little on the side.” He blushed, which made Peggy raise an eyebrow. For years Steve drew the art for the comic books, The Captain, The Daughters of Liberty, and the Howling Commandos, because he wanted to make sure Peggy’s story was told with respect. “But my main focus was helping to create SHIELD.”

Her boys had taken an idea born in the cold nights of war spent around wretched little fires or with a bottle of whiskey under the streets of London and turned it into a reality. Peggy was impressed and very proud. 

“After the war,” Steve say as he begins his tale about the founding of SHIELD. “Howard went off to do what Howard did best, charm lovers and invent things, which led to him being arrested and nearly hanged for treason.” 

Peggy chokes on her bourbon. “What?!”

“There was this Russian plan to use a bio-chemical weapon against us.” Steve continues. “Part of that plan involved a Russian spy playing Howard so they could get the chemical formula, and then setting him to make it look like he was selling out to our enemies. Howard went on the run, but the S.S.R lured him out of hiding by arresting Edwin Jarvis.” Anger lit up Steve’s eyes as he continued. “This meat head of an agent, Thompson, beat Jarvis to a pulp while the New York office chief watched on. They put him in the hospital, Peg, threatened to have him hanged for treason for actions he took during the war to save the life of the girl he loved, and then threatened to deport Ana back to Hungary. Howard had no choice but to come back.” Steve sighed and shook his head. “Bucky and I scrambled to help him, Peg, I promise we did. But we were just soldiers, we had no idea how to help Howard the way he needed us too. Then we remembered you left us with the help we needed, the people who could do the kind of work we needed done to help Howard. You left us your spy birds.” 

Peggy thought about the women she had trained and turned into her own personally little S.O.E. spy cell. Amanda, Jaime, Katie, and of course Angie. Her heart ached in her chest and that pain must have reflected in her eyes because Steve had reached out to put his hand on her arm as he continued. 

“Buck and I called up Jaime and Katie and asked for their help. Amanda would have helped too, but she was about to have her first child. Jaime and Katie were able to work out who the Russian spy was. Apparently, she’d been a chorus girl in your USO show, willowy tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, claimed to be from Iowa and dreamed of being a ballerina.” 

“Underwood?” Peggy replied, her brow raised. “Dottie Underwood?” 

Steve nods. “You remember her?” 

“I remember she was always trying to wedge herself before me and Angie.” Peggy huffed. “Tooth rotting sweet while doing it.” 

“Underwood got Howard to chase her, and while he thought he was charming her into his bed, she was helping herself to his vault of inventions.” Steve rolled his eyes at the memory of Howard the cad. “Not going to lie Peg, we cut it really close, Howard was nearly executed, and we lost a lot of lives when the New York office was blown to bits, but we pulled off one hell of a hail mary in the end.” Steve stops himself from saying he wished Peggy had been there, that if she had things would have played out differently, because he knew she’d find a way to blame herself for not being there. “The S.S.R crumbled after that, and Howard, Bucky, and me, we started making plans, plans that lead to SHIELD.” 

Steve doesn’t have to say it for her to feel it, if only she’d been here, but she hadn’t been. She’d been encased in an icy oblivion that kept her from facing a world without the one person she’d ever truly loved, but also kept her from passing on and spending eternity with her as well. Sixty-six years in an icy limbo, only to be awaken now, alive, and terribly alone. “Steve,” She calls out before Steve leaves. “You and Bucky…” 

Steve smiles. “It wasn’t easy, Peggy, but we had a good life together, Buck and me, more than fifty years.” 

Peggy gives him the biggest smile. “Good, I’m glad to hear it.” But then her smile faltered. “Had?” 

“Buck died three years ago.” Steve tells her. “Peacefully in his sleep, with the people who loved him at his side.” 

She stands and walks over to him and hugs him. “I’m so sorry, Steve.” 

“Don’t be, Peggy.” Steve replies. “We lived our lives, and we lived them well, and happy, and full. Now it’s your turn. Don’t linger too much in the past, Peg. You got a whole lot of life ahead of you.” He drops his voice to a whisper before kissing her cheek. “Angie would want you to live it and be happy, Peg. You know she would.” 

Deep down, Peggy knew that he was right, but she wasn’t ready to face that just yet. In this strange new world she found herself in, her grief over losing Angie, and the love she still felt for her, were the only things keeping her head above water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know I have an Instagram where I post pics and interact a bit for my stories so feel free follow. StoriesbyReese


	7. Chapter 7

Getting cleared medically was easy. Peggy was in peak physical health thanks to her altered DNA. After a week of a high calorie, high protein diet to refuel her cells after they’d spent six decades constantly self-healing to keep her alive in the ice, Peggy was as good as new. Her strength, speed, stamina, durability, agility, and reflexes were just as enhanced, and her senses, and mental processing just as sharp. She wasted no time in getting into the rehabilitation center’s gym to work out, to practice the combat skills that made good use of her enhanced abilities, and to try and clear her head. Getting cleared psychologically took a bit of work. There was concern about her suffering from PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder, which Steve explained was what they use to call shell shock. For Peggy, the war had just happened, a week ago, a month, it was still fresh in her mind. On top of that, she was also dealing with the fact that she’d gone to sleep in 1945 and awoken in 2011. Sixty-six years had passed, lives had been lived, people she had just seen, had just spoken to, were gone. Her parents were gone. Steve tells her they lived well into their eighties and died peacefully, but Peggy still felt the weight of her guilt over making them think they had outlived both of their children. “I will not bury another empty coffin beneath a stone bearing my child’s name on it just because you want to run off and play the hero, Margaret!” Her mother’s voice lingered in her thoughts, causing tears to burn as they blurred her vision as she roundhouse kicked another sparring dummy into the far wall of the gym. 

Dragging her arm across her eyes Peggy moves across the room to clean up the mess, but her mind continues to shift through what Steve’s told her about the last sixty-plus years. Howard searched for her for years, refusing to give up, even after he finally married and had a son. Maria, according to Steve, was a wonderful woman, patient and kind, and a wonderful mother to Anthony. Howard did his best. “He had a heart attack in a hotel room in ‘85.” Steve had told her. She could tell by his tone there was more to the story, something he couldn’t tell her, but wanted to. Peggy didn’t push, though she wanted to, she wanted to know everything she’d missed, every little detail, but Steve was abiding by the doctors wishes to not overwhelm her. 

The legality of getting her life back was taking a while, which meant Peggy was stuck accepting SHIELD’s hospitality until she was legally a living person again. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with this second chance she’d been given. Her mind and heart were still too muddled with grief over losses still too fresh despite the fact that they’d happened so long ago. Added to that old grief was new grief for those she’d lost while she was asleep, Howard, Bucky, Chester, her parents. It had been assumed that she would just go to work for SHIELD, but Peggy was quick to make it clear that no government nor agency had claim to her just because she was the only thing that remained of Project Rebirth. Until she decided how to live this new life, Steve wanted so badly for her to live it to the fullest, she would educate herself on the world she now found herself in. On his last visit Steve had given her a little pocket notebook with lists of things he thought she would find interesting and things that would help catch her up to speed. She’s already watched the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, which filled her with great pride despite the strangest of it. The last time she’d seen Princess Elizabeth she’d been a girl of nineteen, driving ambulances and repairing jeeps in the Auxiliary Territory Service, and now she was England’s longest reigning monarch with children, grandchild, even great grandchild. Peggy’s national pride also came with more grief, more names to add to list of people who’d passed on while she was gone, she’d been very fond of the Churchills, and she would always remember the kindness and strength of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.

Peggy wasn’t all together sure how she felt about television. Radio shows and books had engaged her imagination as a child, had fueled her adventurous play, sending her out into the garden and woods to reenact what she had heard or read. Television just laid it all out for you, no imagination required. But Steve had made a list of programs for her and insisted that T.V. would help acclimate her to the world faster than reading six decades worth of newspapers and books. Peggy gave in, and much to her surprise found another familiar face appearing on the television screen in her room. Bernice Frankle had been a tough and boisterous woman, one of the first female U.S. Marines, and one of Peggy’s favorite truck drivers. Maude and the Golden Girls quickly became some of Peggy’s favorite shows. 

After taking a shower following her morning workout routine, Peggy dressed in a pair of trousers, a simple button up shirt, waistcoat, and a nice, soft, brown leather jacket. Steve had asked Ruth Jarvis if she would take Peggy shopping after Peggy had completed about spending her days in what she insisted were pajamas, despite Steve trying to explain that sweats and t-shirts were actually worn to lounge in or workout in. Ruth had easily agreed. Apparently, the young woman’s grandmother, Ana, had been a seamstress and designer, and had introduced Ruthie to New York’s fashion district at a young age. This had given Ruth useful knowledge in helping Peggy’s ‘vintage’ sensibilities navigate modern day fashion. Peggy took notice of the girl and her abilities because having someone who could aid in disguises was always handy in Peggy’s line of work, and old habits died hard. 

Once she was ready for the day Peggy went looking for her SHIELD babysitter, finding him waiting for her in the lounge of the rehab center’s front lobby. She tried hard not to allow her resentment over having a handler cloud her interactions with the man. He didn’t necessarily see her as an asset that needed guarding, he’d just been ordered by those who did to keep an eye on her. “Good morning, Agent Coulson.” 

“Good morning, Captain Carter.” Agent Phil Coulson replies with a smile while holding out a white paper cup with a green logo and brown cardboard sleeve. “This one should be less sweet than yesterdays.” He reassures. Coulson had taken upon himself to introduce Peggy to the wonderful world of Starbucks. “Where to today, Ma’am?” 

“Back to the library if you please.” Peggy replies after sipping the contents of the cup and giving an approving nod. Then she pulls out Steve’s notebook and checks his list of historical things she should learn. “I’ve finished the books on post war Germany and the Berlin Wall. I think I’ll have a go at Margaret Thatcher next.” 

“The Iron Lady.” Coulson nods, and then begins a conversation with Peggy about the former British Prime Minister as they make their way out to the car. 

Peggy refused to sit in the backseat while Coulson drove her around. He was a high-level agent who had worked his way up the ranks and into a potion where he worked directly with Director Fury. During one of their first outings Peggy had asked him, “How did you end up with SHIELD, Agent Coulson?” 

“After my father died, my mother loaded up the car with what little we had, and we left Wisconsin. She was a bit lost for a while, wasn’t really sure where to go or what to do without my Dad, but she eventually found work here in New York, and we settled in. Moving from Wisconsin to the biggest city in the country was an adjustment to say the least, I got lost in my comic books and history books, and baseball. Most of the major comic book publishers are based out of New York, ya know, so while my Mom was working, I kept busy trying to track down the people who worked on my favorites, Captain Britain and the Iron Man, The Howling Commandos, and The Daughters of Liberty. Didn’t really know what I was going to do once I found them, ask for a job maybe, ya know, to help out? Anyway, I managed to track down Grant Buchanan, who was the artist on the books.” 

“Steve?” Peggy guest, given how on the nose the alias was, being his middle name and James’. 

Coulson nodded with a warm smile. “He and Bucky became mentors to me after that. I didn’t know about SHIELD until I graduated high school. I wrote a historical paper discussing, well, you, actually. How you used spy craft and boots on the ground military tactics to win battles and create paths to victory for the allies during the war.”

Coulson had allowed her to read that paper. Peggy would not disrespect him, his intelligence, his compassion, or his position within SHIELD by treating him like a valet or personal driver. 

“I just want to say thanks, again, for signing those cards for me, Captain Carter.” Coulson says with a happy smile as he drives through Manhattan’s busy streets. 

“It was no problem, Agent Coulson.” Peggy replies warmly and then chuckles softly. “It’s still very strange to think those things became so valuable. They only cost a few pennies back in my time, and came with the most horrible stick of gum.”

“You’ve inspired generations of the world's children, Captain,” Coulson tells her. “Especially little girls, to become scientists, law makers, world leaders. Justice Ginsburg has a Captain Carter poster framed on her chamber wall. You were the first person on the cover of Ms. Magazine.”

Peggy pulls out her notebook and adds Ms. Magazine to it. Steve already had Ruth Bader Ginsburg, along with Sandra Day O’Connor. There were other things in Steve’s notebook, films, television programs, music, and a page with the heading ‘internet sites’, but Peggy wanted, needed, to learn the dynamics of this new world she found herself in first. What shape did the world take after the war had ended? What came out of all that fighting she’d done, all that loss she’d suffered, and the sacrifices she’d made? Aside from Bea’s television shows, there was one other small entertainment indulgence Peggy allowed herself, and that was Broadway. It was the one thing about Angie that hurt the least, so she’d asked Coulson if it were possible to get her a record player and some of the most popular Broadway shows that she’d missed out on. He came back with something he called an iPod, which he’d loaded with original Broadway cast soundtracks, and showed her how to use it. Peggy had been fascinated and had asked more questions about the technology than the music and shows. 

Coulson, being the helpful fan boy that he was, had also loaded on a couple of digital remasters of an old radio program that aired for a few years following the end of the war. In the program the fictionalized version of Captain Britain and the Iron Man, were portrayed as sweethearts. They also apparently each had a child aged sidekick who were also sweethearts. Is that what people thought? That she and Steve were sweethearts? They obviously couldn’t know the truth, Captain Britain, or Captain Carter which she’d also been known as, would not have the same reputation as a hero and role model if people knew that Peggy Carter was a queer. Peggy thought perhaps, that linking her romantically to Steve had not only been beneficial to the image of her memory, but a way for her to look out for and protect Steve even in ‘death’. While Bucky had played the part of galivanting war hero with a girl on every continent, Steve had been the man who spent his whole life pining over his one true love, lost to him in an act of heroism that he refused to tarnish by loving another woman. 

Whatever the purpose of the fictionalized romance portrayed between them in various forms of entertainment media, the radio show was still, “Rubbish.” Peggy said with a shake of her head as she removed the earbuds from her ears. “That show is utter rubbish and complete shite. I don’t see how it ever wound up on the radio.” 

“Oh, I don’t know if it’s that bad.” Fury says as he joins Peggy on her walk through the rehab’s gardens. He was impressed that even with earbuds in she’d been able to detect him. “They got my old man just about right. From the stories I’ve heard he was a dog before he met my mother.” Peggy gave him what he was learning was her ‘I don’t understand that term or reference’ face. He chuckled, “Um, what would a horn dog be in old white people speak?” He paused; she rolled her eyes. “What did y’all call a man who liked the woman a little too much?” 

“Howard Stark.” Peggy replied deadpan which got a roar of a laugh from Fury. She smiled ever so slightly. She could see a lot of his father in Nicholas Fury, and that along with Steve’s reassurances allowed her to trust him, to a point. “But I think you might have meant a bounder or a cad, and yes both Nick and Howard were cads. I think they were actually competing with one another at one point to see who could sleep with the most European women by the end of the war.”

“Who won?” Fury asks. 

“No idea.” Peggy replies with a straight face. “The colony of penguins that lived near my ice block didn’t really keep up with wartime gossip.” Fury looked at her like he always did when he discovered something new about her, like for example, she had a sense of humor. He laughed and she smiled just a little bit more. Then she turned serious again and asked, “Was there something you needed Director Fury?” 

“Just got word from the British High Court.” Fury reports. “They need to see you in person before they’ll agree to you being alive again. Coulson will go with you.” 

“Of course, he will.” Peggy bites back a sigh. “Must not let the asset out of your sight, after all.” 

“Like I’ve said before Cap, SHIELD was built from the sense of duty and purpose you left behind.” Fury replies. “It was literally made for you. But after everything you’ve done, everything you’ve sacrificed, you’ve earned a quiet peaceful civilian life if that’s what you want. It’s your life, Cap, you do what you want to do with it. The powers that be that are nipping at my heels over you, and our respective governments, can just fuck off, I’m not going to pressure you into anything.” 

Peggy stops walking and turns to look at the man for several long moments. He wanted her to agree to something so badly she could feel it coming off him in waves. But he was also sincere in his convictions to let her choose and live with whatever that was. “When do I leave?” Peggy asks. 

“In three days.” Fury replies. “And once you’re a legal living person with citizenship and the means to live on, Coulson will return and you can do what you want.” 

Peggy almost believed him, but Peggy Carter was a spy and spymaster long before Fury Jr. was even born. True to Fury’s word, Coulson returned to the States without her once she’d been given her life back legally, and she had the means to fend for herself. Before he left Peggy did tell Coulson that if she were truly needed, he should come get her, because even though she wasn’t ready to pick up and live on just yet, she would not stand on the sidelines if she were truly needed. It was agreed that Peggy’s return would be kept out of the press until she was ready to make it known, but Peggy was still going to remain cautious and keep as low a profile as possible. She checked out of the high-end London hotel she and Coulson had been staying in, and into a small inn north of London, closer to Hampstead, under the name Phyllis Martin. She rented a car, and from there she continued reacclimating herself to the 21st century. 

It was strange seeing the historical plaque embedded in the stone archway of the front gate leading to her childhood home in Hampstead. ‘Margaret Elizabeth Carter. 1921-1945. She was Our Hero. Captain Britain Was Born and Lived Here.’. It was a historical site now, forever frozen in time, a look into the past that was a lifetime ago for everyone but the woman leaning against her little Fiat staring up the driveway as the memories came. “You’ll be the death of me Peggy Carter!” Amanda Carter’s voice echoed through her daughter’s mind, followed soon by Harrison’s, “Well done, Duckie, well done.”

She couldn’t bear to actually go inside the house just yet, so Peggy got back into her car after a while and headed over to the church she’d grown up in and had taken Angie too to pray. Driving past the church itself Peggy parked in the small lot beside the cemetery, and after retrieving the flowers she’d bought from the passenger seat, she walked the path to where her family rested. The first grave she came upon was Michael’s, which unbeknownst to Peggy was no longer empty. Beside Michael lay their father, beside Harrison his wife, and beside Amanda, “Margaret Elizabeth “Peggy” Carter. Born 9 April 1921. Died 19 August 1945. Beloved Daughter, Sister, and a Grateful Nation’s Hero.” Peggy read aloud. “This is bloody awkward, isn’t it?” She says softly as she kneels in front of her parents’ markers. “Mum. Dad. I am so very sorry. I’m so, so, very sorry.” 

More than an hour passes before Peggy stands and says her goodbyes to her parents and Michael. She tries not to look at the marker with her name on it, but she does, and in doing so takes notice of the stone on its other side. Peggy gasps, her hand flying to her mouth as she falls to knees once more. Reaching out with shaking fingers she brushes them along the engraved letters. Angela Martinelli. “Oh, my darling.” 

Peggy knew that Angie’s remains had remained unfound, and that the Martinelli family like the Carters had buried a memory. This had to have been Steve’s doing. Peggy’s grief and sadness rolled over her like a sudden wave and in its wake, it left behind anger and resentment. They should have left her in the ice, left her to the cold oblivion of unawareness where she could be with Angie in her dreams. 

She’s bone achingly tired from the emotions of the day when she returns to her room at the inn, but not too tired that she doesn’t take notice once again of the blonde American in the room down the hall. The woman, ‘Kate’, is clearly there to watch her, but Peggy’s in no mood to deal with her new SHIELD babysitter, at least not until she could clear her mind and chest of the emotional maelstrom, she currently found herself in. And not without a little prep work first.

The girl was good, Peggy would give her that. Anyone else wouldn’t have even noticed her as they went through their routines of the day, but Peggy Carter wasn’t just anyone. Before she was a super soldier, she was a master spy. The techniques the young woman was using to keep tabs on Peggy, Peggy herself created or perfected before the girl’s parents were born. After giving the girl the slip in a way that would keep her occupied, Peggy backtracked back to the inn. After a quick go with a couple of bobby pins she was in the girl’s room, looking around, finding just what she thought she would, nothing. There wasn’t a single personal item in the whole place, just the basic necessities and non-descript clothes. 

When the blonde agent stepped into her room, Peggy was sitting in a chair with a cup of tea, her shield resting on the floor, leaning against her crossed legs, and the old pistol she’d hidden in a hollow stone in the wall around her childhood home. The look of shock and awe on the girl’s face made the more experienced spy smirk before she spoke. “I had hoped that Fury would keep his word. I almost believed him when he said I was more than an asset or a resource, a piece of property to be owned by SHIELD.”

“I’m not here because of Fury.” The young woman says as she stares unbelievingly at the woman across the room. 

Peggy glared crossly at the young woman. “Are you honestly going to deny being a SHIELD agent?”

The young woman shakes her head. “No, I am a SHIELD agent. I’m Agent 13, SHIELD Special Services.” 

That surprised Peggy and she blinked. “Agent 13?” 

A bright smile tugs at Agent 13’s lips. “You were the original Agent 13, before the serum, during your S.O.E. days. They started using that codename for you because any enemy target that you were assigned to became unlucky.” 

Peggy slowly rose to her feet and took two measured steps closer to the blonde. They appeared close in age, seeing as how Peggy still looked as if she were her early twenties despite actually being ninety. The young woman was about five foot eight with a healthy athletic build but lacked the curves a woman would have had in Peggy’s day. Sickly thin, Peggy had discovered was the goal of many women in this era. Being this close to the young woman, Peggy could finally make out the details of her face, her gaze lingering on the girl’s eyes. There was something familiar about the girl’s warm brown eyes. Narrowing her own dark eyed gaze Peggy demands, “If Fury didn’t send you to keep an eye on me, who did?” 

Agent 13 hesitates for a moment but under that glare she can’t help but answer. “Steve.” She hesitates again before explaining, “He knew returning home to London would be hard for you. He wanted to be here for you himself, but he isn’t able to really travel much anymore, so he sent me because he wanted you to have family if you needed it.” 

“Family?” Peggy questioned, taking another step closer, her eyes going even more narrow as she took in the young woman’s face. “Who the bloody hell are you?” 

Licking her lips nervously Agent 13 admitted. “My name is Sharon.” She bites her lip and smiles a familiar smile. “Sharon Margaret-Elizabeth Carter Rogers.” She pauses again before adding, “I’m your great niece.” 

That hit Peggy like a slap, causing her to take a step back from Sharon. “Great niece?” She repeats, shaking her head. “That’s impossible. My only sibling died in the war never having had children.” 

“I don’t suppose you made an entire pot of tea while searching my place, did you?” Sharon replies easily, gently, and with a warm smile. “Because this is going to be a long story.”

Michael did not die in battle during the war. He was captured, spent a short amount of time in a P.O.W. camp before being commandeered by the Russians. He was experimented on in Russia’s attempts to create their own super soldiers. Michael already being a trained soldier and spy had been seen as an advantage, especially when the physical experiments didn’t work, but the psychological ones did. The Russians had taken control over the perfect undercover agent. One that had been a thorn in SHIELD’s side for years after its creation. 

“But the Russian’s mind control wasn’t absolute.” Sharon explained to the woman sitting in the chair across from her potion on the sofa. There was a pot of tea and a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. While Sharon kept her hands busy by holding her cup, Peggy just sat there taking in everything she was saying. “It couldn’t override a father’s desire to protect his son. My grandparents died making sure my father was safe.”

James Martin Carter Rogers was raised by his adoptive ‘bachelor’ father, Steven Grant Rogers. Rumors ran rampant about the boy’s origins, with the most popular being that soft hearted Steve had taken in the bastard son of one of his best friends, though whether that best friend was Bucky Barnes or Howard Stark was up for debate for a while. At some point the rumor mill had settled on the boy being Bucky’s because of how much time Bucky spent with Steve, and because Steve had named the boy after Bucky. “When my Dad was old enough to really understand, my grandfathers told him the truth. They told him about being a Carter, about Michael and about you.” Sharon smiles. “I grew up hearing stories about you, not just stories about Captain Britain the War Hero, but about you, Peggy Carter, my Grandpa’s best girl.”

Peggy’s head was spinning. Michael hadn’t been dead? All those years she fought in the war in his memory, and he was out there somewhere, and she never knew it? Michael had been alive and suffering, and she’d had no idea. Peggy’s heart was painfully heavy in her chest as she thought about what her brother must have gone through. She wanted so badly to disbelieve what she was being told, simply because she didn’t want to believe Michael had suffered and been used, but the girl, her great niece, had her’s and Michael’s eyes, Carter eyes. Peggy reached for the bottle of whiskey despite the fact that she knew it wouldn’t do anything for her, she simply wanted to feel the familiar burn as she drank it while trying to make sense of all of this. 

Sharon called Steve and handed the phone to Peggy. He confirmed everything Sharon had told her and asked her to come back to New York so he could tell her the rest, and so she could meet, if she wanted, Michael’s son. Peggy agreed, packed up what little she had with her, and returned to the U.S. with Sharon, getting to know the young woman a little along the way. When they arrived in New York they took a taxi to Steve’s home, a remodeled firehouse in a neighborhood in Brooklyn, and for the first time Peggy gets to really see the life he had lived while she was frozen in sleep. 

“Bucky’s arm?” Peggy asks as she looks at a picture of Steve and Bucky with a boy of about seven or eight. The boy, James, or Jimmy as he was called as a lad, had Michael’s eyes and neatly combed brown hair under the flat field cap of his Boy Scout uniform. He looked so much like Michael as a child in his Wolf Pack uniform that it made Peggy’s chest feel tight. 

“Op gone bad on the wrong side of the Berlin Wall.” Steve explains. “Nearly lost him on that one, and it took him a while to fully recover both physically and mentally.” 

She had so many questions, about Steve and Bucky, James, Michael, Sharon, and the life they’d all had together, but they would all have to wait. Peggy had said that if she were truly needed, she would be there. So, when Coulson showed up saying, “We have a situation, and we need your help, Captain.” Peggy couldn’t refuse and went with him. Steve promised her there would be time for more stories and more catching up later. Coulson took her to an airfield and a jet that looked nothing like the ones she remembered. “Sit rep, Agent Coulson?” 

“Asgardians, Ma’am.” Coulson replies easily. “They are giant overpowered pains in our intergalactic asses.” 

Peggy wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, so she just stared at Coulson. “Alrighty then.”


	8. Chapter 8

The jet landed on the biggest aircraft carrier Peggy had ever seen, on a big bright yellow SHIELD eagle, a redesign of the old S.S.R. logo. Peggy had been on countless battleships during the war, and none of them could compare to the massive ship she was setting foot on. She looked around, taking it all in while following Coulson, and was struck by just how militaristic this felt. Was SHIELD an intelligence agency or an independent military? What kinds of threats was SHIELD up against that they needed something like this? While everyone around them worked Peggy quickly took notice of the redhead coming towards her and Coulson as they disembarked. As was her habit, Peggy quickly sized the redhead up, five foot three, average build in appearance but the way she moved told Peggy there was more than meets the eye about her. She was easily late twenties, green eyes, and from the color of her eyebrows her short hair was more than likely a naturally red. The woman was, in her black jeans and leather jacket, quite attractive, and Peggy would bet good money, probably very deadly. 

“Agent Natasha Romanoff.” Coulson called out once the woman had joined them. “Captain Margaret Carter.”

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy corrects while giving the other woman a nod. She was well aware that the redhead had been sizing her up as well, and since Agent Romanoff seemed to remain relaxed, so did Peggy. “Agent.” 

Natasha Romanoff nods respectfully. “Captain Carter. Welcome to the helicarrier.” Then she turns to Coulson and tells him he’s needed in command. Coulson nods, excuses himself, and heads off. Natasha gives Peggy a look and starts to walk, Peggy walks beside her. “Finding you in the ice was quite the exciting event around here. Thought Coulson was going to self-combust from it. Has he asked you to sign his memorabilia yet?” 

“Some bubble gum trading cards.” Peggy admits as they walk towards a rather frazzled looking man. Short, mid-to-late thirties, dark hair moves more like a professor than a fighter. “He’s also allowed me to borrow some of his comic books.” 

Natasha smirks. “Did he make you promise to wear the little white gloves while you read them?”

“He did, yes.” Peggy chuckles. “I don’t mind, though. Agent Coulson has been a huge help since I woke up.” As if to illustrate her point she indicates the nervous looking man they were clearly approaching asking, “Is that Banner?” Natasha nods and Peggy calls out in greeting. “Dr. Banner.” When he stops his nervous fidgeting and turns towards them, she holds out her hand. “Word has it you can help find that bloody cube Howard should have left on the bottom of the ocean floor.” 

Bruce Banner’s eyes flicker between Peggy’s eyes and her hand for a moment and then he reaches out and accepts the handshake she’s offering. “Yes,” He replies. “Yes, I can. Is, um, is that the only thing you were told about me?” 

“It’s the only thing that matters at the moment.” Peggy replies. 

Bruce nods and the three begin walking. “This must be strange for you.” 

“A little.” Peggy replies with a nod. “I wasn’t expecting such a large show of force.” She watches as a unit of men and women run past her in drill formation. “There are some aspects that are very familiar, however.” 

“We should head inside.” Natasha says from behind them. “It’s going to get a little hard to breath soon.” 

Banner panics a bit at the thought of being on a submarine. Peggy is confused, there was no possible way to turn an aircraft carrier into a submarine, was there? Warning sirens sounded and beneath her feet Peggy could feel the rumblings of massive turbines and engines coming to life. She and Banner move to the edge, and Peggy watches in awe as the ship begins to lift out of the water, rather than sinking into it. The ship wasn’t just an aircraft carrier, it was an aircraft. “Crikey O'Reilly! It bloody flies!”

“Yeah, that’s not really a better option for me.” Bruce says with a nervous but amused tone to his voice. 

Natasha leads them to an even larger SHEILD symbol on the deck, which turns out to be a lift that lowers them down into belly of the beast. Once inside she guides them to the command center where Fury awaits. The ship truly is a marvel, and Peggy can’t help the tiniest of smiles as she takes it all in. Clearly Steve had been downplaying SHIELD quite a bit because this was far beyond anything they had talked about during the war. Which once again brought up the question of why, why did SHIELD need such power, what kinds of things did they go up against that they needed something like this? Peggy’s attention is drawn to the sound of a commanding voice, a woman’s voice. Dark hair, blue eyes, around Peggy’s height, and clearly in charge. Peggy’s smile grew a bit. 

“So, what do you think?” Coulson asks as he steps up beside her, his smile warm and waiting like a child waiting for praise. 

“It’s astonishing, absolutely beyond my expectations.” Peggy watches as Coulson’s smile brightens until it’s lighting up his whole face. She can tell that he’s hoping this will persuade her to officially join SHIELD, but she still isn’t sure. She isn’t Howard, impressed and dazzled by shiny new technology. Nor is she Steve, who’d jumped headfirst into a war because of his sense of duty, pride, and black and white way of looking at the world. Peggy was cautious, methodical, and pragmatic. Before she agreed to become an Agent of SHIELD, she would make sure they were worthy of her and her abilities. 

Fury is talking to Banner about locating the cube and a flicker of anger begins to warm Peggy’s chest. The Americans had tried to recreate Project Rebirth, and instead of using vita radiation, they’d tried to use gamma. How many people were out there, people like Bruce Banner, effected by the failed attempts to recreate her? 

“Don’t blame yourself, Captain.” Coulson says softly as they walk towards Fury and the conference table. “People with power will always crave more of it. Even if Rebirth hadn’t been a success, the idea of it had been seeded, and there were always going to be people with power who wanted what that idea promised.” 

Peggy smiles at Coulson warmly. “I think instead of you driving me around like a glorified valet, you and I should sit and have tea and really talk, Phillip. There is a lot I still need to learn about this new world I’m in and I like your perspective.” 

Coulson swooned, actually swooned, at having Captain Britain call him by his first name. “I’d like that a lot, Captain.” 

Fury briefs her on what happened in more detail once she’d joined him, Banner, and Romanoff by the table. Howard had hoped to use the Tesseract to create a clean source of renewable energy, but he’d never been able to crack its secrets. A second attempt was made in the eighties by a woman named Wendy Lawson, but after an accident that led to some events Fury wasn’t going to reveal at this time, the Tesseract was hidden until recently. “Erik Selvig was our third try at harnessing its power.”

“Why not just leave the bloody thing alone?” Peggy asks, anger lacing her voice, thickening her accent. “I have seen firsthand what that thing can do. The weapons that the Red Skull made from its power, they didn’t kill soldiers, they degenerated them. There was nothing left, not even dog tags that could be given to grieving loved ones. No one needs that kind of power.” 

“There are things out there, Captain.” Fury says as he points skywards. “Dangerous, unexplainable, things…”

“And because you don’t understand what’s out there, your response is to create weapons to destroy, rather than taking the time to comprehend it?” Peggy demands, her dark steely gaze locked unwaveringly with Fury’s. “Engaging with the world through a filter of fear and suspicion never leads to anything but trouble, Director Fury.” 

Any further discourse is cut short because Loki had been seen in Germany. Coulson is at her side with a smirk that doesn’t quite fit the situation. He takes her to a room he tells her she can suit up in. She isn’t sure how she feels about putting on one of the skintight catsuits she’s seen the others wearing, and she’s about to voice her option when Coulson opens the door. As she steps inside panels in the walls start to slide open, and much to Peggy’s surprise she finds an updated version of her old suit waiting for her. The new suit had dark blue combat trousers that were less bulky looking than her old tan and brown trousers. A unity belt, holsters, and straps that matched the dark brown, leather, calf high combat boots. The upper part of the uniform was the same dark blue as the trousers, with subtle red and white trim reminiscent of the Union Jack pattern, a proper Union Jack patch on one of the biceps, and the white star on her chest.

“It’s made of the best materials, lightweight, light armor, it even has pockets.” Coulson says with a warm smile. 

Moving past the uniform Peggy walks up to the very back wall and crosses her arms over her blue silk covered chest. While the new suit was different, the biggest change, aesthetic wise at least, was her shield. “Well, that’s certainly different.” 

The rings of Peggy’s shield were now Red, thin line of white, red, with a blue center and a white star in the middle. “I hope you don’t mind.” Coulson says nervously. “I know it was presumptuous of me, but I thought that maybe this time around, we’d take the ego of nations out of it and you could just be you, Captain Carter.” 

Peggy thinks about her favorite poster, the one Steve made while she was still being paraded around as Miss. America and pretending to be Betty Carver. He’d captioned that poster with Captain Carter. She was extremely proud of being Captain Britain, she always would be, but this was a different time, a different era, and it would need something different from her. Turning to look at Coulson, Peggy smiles as she rests her hand on his shoulder. “I rather like the way you think, Phillip.”

Coulson leaves her to suit up like a man walking ten feet tall. Left alone, Peggy reaches for her shield and smiles, “Hello old friend. Shall we have another go at this?” The shield feels good in her hands, it feels right, and with a firm nod she begins to get ready. Once she’s suited up, shield strapped to her back where it belongs, she meets Agent Romanoff and a pilot on deck and Peggy can feel every eye on her as she boards the quinjet. How could she ever live up to the legend of herself, she wonders as she takes in all of the wide eyes and awed faces. But before any doubts can really take hold, Peggy remembers her father’s words, “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone but you, Duckie. At the end of the day, you’re the one who has to live with yourself.” 

“Ready Captain?” Natasha’s voice calls out from the cockpit. 

Peggy nods. “Ready Agent Romanoff.” 

The weight of her shield on her back is comforting as Peggy prepares for her first fight since the war. As they approach their target, she can see a crowd of people, and watches as they reluctantly drop to their knees in fear of the man with a staff and gold helmet with ridiculously long, curved horns. There’s an instant spark in Peggy’s chest and just like that the old desire to wrong rights and to protect lives, burns hotly in her chest. She gives the pilot an order, a location and level of altitude, and then tells him to open the hatch. As she jumps, she hears the pilot ask if she’d taken a parachute, and when Natasha says no, Peggy smirks. As she falls the caress of the evening air across her exposed skin sent a thrill through her, an old and familiar rush that she’s missed. She lands in front of Loki in that iconic way of hers, slowly rising to her full height while emerging from behind her shield after deflecting a blast from Loki’s scepter meant to kill the one man who refused to kneel. “The last two men I faced, who tried to conquer and subjugate the world, died cursing my name for stopping them. You’re more than welcome to join them, or you could make this easy on yourself and surrender.”

“Ah.” Loki purrs. “The woman ahead of her time, who was lost in time, who has returned only to find herself out of time.” 

“Put your weapon down and surrender, Loki.” Peggy’s voice booms as she walks towards the Asgardian and then pauses. “This is my final offer to end this without you getting hurt.” 

Loki laughs. “How, dear Captain, do you plan to hurt me? Will you throw your little toy at me?” He laughs again as he raises his arms and declares, “Woman, I am a god!” 

“I cracked the skull of the last man who said that to me with this little toy of mine.” Peggy replies. “But I was thinking of throwing something with a little more of a point.” The quinjet appears over Peggy’s shoulder. “Like, say, a missile?” 

Loki raises his scepter to fire on the jet, giving Peggy the opening she’d hoped it would. She charges forward, using her shield like a battering ram as she plows into the man, knocking him off his feet. They fight, hand to hand, staff to shield, and when Loki knocks the shield from her hand, Peggy draws a knife. Her shield was never her only weapon. Loki tries to get her on her knees, repeating the command to kneel, and though his strength makes her knees wobble, she refuses to go down. She grabs hold of his staff with one hand, sinking her knife into Loki with the other as they each struggle to get the upper hand. The look of surprise on Loki’s face makes her smile as she says, “I get on my knees for no man.” 

It’s the most inappropriate time for a memory but one flutters to the surface of Peggy’s mind anyway. Angie’s voice, warm and sated, laced with pleasure. Her body stretched out like a cat on a rumpled bed, sunlight from a nearby window, washing over her lightly bronzed skin. “It’s a good thing I ain’t no man then, huh, English.” 

They don’t know enough about Loki’s powers to have seen it coming. The so-called god of mischief duplicates himself, and suddenly Peggy is outnumbered. Just as she is about to be overrun by Lokis, like a scene from one of those horrible films Bucky liked so much, loud music fills the night air, seemingly from the quinjet, and she wonders for a moment what the hell Natasha was up to. Then she sees him, the red and gold streak zooming over her head just as a small projectile launches from his suit, sending what must be the real Loki flying backwards into the stone steps of the square, because all of his duplicates flicker and disappear. He lands beside her, the lights gleaming on his red and gold armor, in a crouch and then he stands. 

“Make a move reindeer games.” Comes the altered voice of Iron Man as he aims several weapons at Loki. The Asgardian slowly raises his hands. “Smart man.” 

“Impeccable timing.” Peggy says to the man in the iron suit beside her. Like Banner and Romanoff, Coulson had given her a quick briefing on the Iron Man. She knew that man inside the armor was Howard’s son, and knowing that caused her heart to race just a little. 

“I like a good dramatic entrance.” Iron Man replies. 

Peggy allows herself a small chuckle before getting down to the business of securing their prisoner. Before they leave, the old man who’d stood up to Loki makes his way over to Peggy with wide eyes. He reaches out a trembling hand and she takes it in both of hers easily. 

“It’s you, isn’t it? It’s really you?” The man says softly. “The Captain who freed people from some of the camps? You’re back. I was small, but I remember. I remember the sound of your shield, and the star on your chest breaking through the smoke like the north star shining through the fog. I remember. There will always be men like him.” He looks at the jet where Loki was now, and then back at her. “I am glad to see there are still people like you willing to stop men like him.” 

Natasha calls out an apology, but they need to leave. Peggy smiles warmly at the man, at the people around them, and says her goodbyes to the grateful people of Berlin. She let the man’s words settle into her thoughts as she boarded the quinjet and they prepared to leave. He was right, there always would be people like Loki, people who craved power and would do anything to get it, harm anyone to get more of it. Those kinds of people have always existed, but now those people had abilities and powers, which meant those who stood up to them would need abilities and powers. Though Peggy still had no idea where she fit into this new world, she no longer doubted if the Captain was needed, clearly, she was. 

“You’re certainly a more sleek and flashy Iron Man than the one I’m used to having at my back.” Peggy says with a warm smile to the man in the red and gold armor once they’re in the air. 

“Drab green really isn’t my color.” Came the response as Iron Man removes his helmet. 

Peggy gasps softly when she sees him. Despite knowing that Iron Man was Howard’s son, seeing him face to face, seeing Howard so clearly in this stranger’s face, shook her. She watches the man raises an eyebrow in concern, and she quickly replies, “I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, you look so much like your father.” 

Tony Stark smiles. “Being brilliant, handsome, and charming are a Stark’s curse in life.”

Her grief bubbles up in her chest, threatening to drown her, but Peggy quickly puts a cap on that. She would deal with that later. She was in the middle of a mission with a high-level threat. She needed to focus on Loki, the missing SHIELD agents, and the Tesseract. She glances over at Loki, narrowing her eyes as she watches him. Something about this wasn’t sitting right in her gut but she wasn’t sure why yet. She was about to say something to Tony and Natasha about it when the quinjet begins to shake as lightning lights up the night sky around them. 

“What wrong pretty boy?” Tony teases a nervous looking Loki. “Don’t like lighting?” 

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.” Loki admits, his gaze darting around wildly. 

It happens quickly. A second man with long blonde hair, a cape, and a hammer busts in through the cargo door, grabs Loki, and flies off with him. Tony puts his helmet back on and follows. Peggy shakes her head and sighs before securing her shield and prepares to follow. 

“I’d sit this one out, Cap.” Natasha calls from the cockpit. “These guys are what the legends are based on. They’re practically gods.”

“Most men with power tend to think of themselves as gods, Agent Romanoff.” Peggy replies. “That doesn’t seem to have changed much over the last sixty years.” She flashes the redhead a smirk. “I’ve got this.” 

She can hear the fighting as she lands and stows her parachute, because no matter what Bucky used to say, she does know her limits for landing safely from a freefall, and that was not a safe height to jump from without a chute. She runs through the forest towards the sounds of clashing metal and power discharges, to where Iron Man and the blonde Asgardian are fighting. She quickly surveys the area and finds a high point that gives her the upper hand. In a booming voice full of steel and command she bellows, “Enough!” Before leaping from her perch, placing herself between them. She uses her shield to block Iron Man’s blast while catching the Asgardian by the wrist mid-hammer-swing, stopping him easily. She misses the look of shock on the blonde’s face as she scolds, “If you two are quite finished measuring your manhoods, this world is at risk and we don’t have time for this nonsense.” She turns her hard gaze on the blonde. “Friend or foe, Asgardian?” She asks, looking him in the eye. “I don’t tend to snap the wrists of friends, but if you’re going to be an issue, I’ll make it hard for you to swing that little hammer of yours.” 

“I am no threat to Midgard.” Thor replies. “I am here to protect this planet from Loki and the Tesseract, not to do it harm. This world and it’s people are under my protection.” 

Peggy lets go of the tight grip she had on his wrist. “Loki has hostages, agents and a civilian scientist who’d been working with the Tesseract…” 

“Erik Selvig?” Thor questions, his concern lacing his voice as he stares at Peggy. 

“You know him?” Peggy asks as she nods confirmation. 

“He’s a friend.” Thor answers. 

“Then help us, work with us, to help him and keep Midgard safe.” Peggy offers as she holds out her hand. 

Thor looks at her for a long moment before he finally nods and grasps her arm in a warrior’s handshake.

They all return to the helicarrier together. Loki is put in a cell that Fury insists, he can’t get out of, and then they all gather around the conference table above the command hub on the bridge of the ship. Thor argues that he should be able to take Loki back to Asgard, that only they have the right to deal with him because he is a prince, a son of Odin, and Thor’s brother. Natasha reminds him of Loki’s death count and Thor comments, “He’s adopted.” 

“It was too easy.” Peggy finally gives voice to the feeling sparked by her instincts. “Loki let himself be captured, I wasn’t sure at first, but then he didn’t run when Thor left him on that bluff to fight Stark. He wants to be here, why?” 

They argue a bit as they all throw out theories and ideas of their own as to why Loki would want to be brought to the helicarrier. Peggy misses the cohesiveness of her old team, and that’s when she realizes what Fury wants from her. He wants her to turn this group of solo players into a team. She catches him watching her, he smirks, and she glares back. Then Banner says something, Stark adds his two cents, and Peggy shifts her gaze to them. “Wait, Loki’s scepter gets its power from the Tesseract?” They nod in unison. Peggy frowns. “If you can track the location of the tesseract from here, can someone track our location through Loki’s scepter?” 

“It’s a trap!” Tony says in a garbled voice as he spins in his chair dramatically. He smirks as he looks at everyone to see if they get it. 

Peggy can’t help but smirk as she says, “Yes, Tony, we get the reference.” 

Tony looks surprised. “Really, Cap? You get it?”

“Coulson recommended I watch the Star Wars.” Peggy explains. “I quite liked Leia.” 

“Star Wars, Cap.” Tony corrects. “Just Star Wars, no the.” 

The big question now was, why was Loki setting a trap for them? Natasha was sent down to talk to Loki, to see if she could get anything from him. Thor insisted that his brother was a master manipulator and would not be manipulated himself, but Natasha had left with a smug little smirk that intrigued Peggy. So, Peggy watched the live feed of the cell, while Tony and Bruce went to work in the lab, and Thor went over to Coulson to speak with him about his other human friends. Natasha was good, Peggy was impressed. Loki and his ego played right into her tactics and he didn’t even have a clue. Peggy smirked.

“Everyone who could possibly stop him is on this ship.” Fury says as he steps up beside her.

She nods. “Everyone who could possibly stop each other is on this ship as well.” 

“Good thing we have an experienced leader on board.” Fury smirks. 

Peggy continues to face forward but looks at Fury out of the corner of her eyes. “I’m used to building my own teams, Fury.” 

“Just give them a chance, Cap.” Fury replies. “I didn’t pick anyone who didn’t get the Old Man’s approval first. I bet you ten bucks that you’ll find they’re a surprising fit.” 

Peggy had her doubts, especially when she walks into the lab to find Tony trying to goad Bruce into becoming angry “Stop it, Stark.” She says as she walks in. Her voice is firm, commanding, but not domineering. It was the same tone she used on Howard. “Leave Dr. Banner alone or I’ll let the Hulk play with your suit like a tin soldier.” 

Tony pouts. Bruce smiles awkwardly. 

In legend Loki was the Norse god of mischief and chaos, and that’s just what he wanted to cause on the helicarrier, chaos. Natasha confirms that Loki wants to trigger the Hulk moments before someone on the bridge calls out that there are two approaching quinjets, one a decoy, the second full of mind-controlled SHIELD agents, including the one Peggy had seen Natasha worrying about, the one named Barton. In the madness, Thor goes down to check on Loki, to keep his brainwashed minions from freeing him, but in the process, he gets tricked into taking his brother’s place in the cell. Peggy hears this as she monitors radio chatter through her earpiece, while she’s covering Iron Man who is making repairs to keep them from crashing. She tells him Loki is loose and he tells her to handle it, he’s got this, so Peggy goes. She arrives just in time to throw her shield, preventing a Loki duplicate from stabbing Coulson in the back just as he fires a large cannon at the real Loki. Her shield bounces off the crack Thor made in the cell wall with his hammer, weakening it further, allowing the thunder god to escape and go after his brother. 

“What were you thinking?” Peggy scolds as she glares at Coulson. “Going in without someone at your back? Always, always, have someone at your back!” 

Loki gets away but Natasha manages to recover Barton. Loki’s distraction worked. While he kept them all busy on the helicarrier, Selvig was able to set up his machine on top of Stark Tower, adding the tower’s power to the Tesseract’s and opening a huge hole in the sky. Creatures unlike anything Peggy could ever have imagined came pouring out the hole in deadly waves. The Captain was once again in her element, leading a team, fighting an extraordinary foe, leading troops which in this case turned out to be the NYPD officers on scene. What surprised Peggy, even more so than the fact that she was fighting an alien army, was Stark’s announcement of there being a nuke in play. Who in their right minds would authorize the use of such a weapon on an American city? That bomb would have taken out the whole island of Manhattan and the surrounding area. That was a hell of a sacrifice to make not knowing if the damn thing would even work on the aliens. She would have to have a long chat with Fury when this was over. 

Peggy stood, rooted in place, watching as Howard’s son flew the nuke up through the hole. Her heart froze in her chest as the air in her lungs burned, demanding release. She had just gotten to meet him, this piece of Howard that still remained in the world she was now in, but she hadn’t yet gotten the chance to know him. She wanted the chance to get to know him! So, she found herself mentally reciting a prayer she remembered Angie muttering, and then letting out a huge sigh of relief as the Hulk placed Tony on the ground at her feet. She had taken notice of how Bruce always spoke of the Hulk as a separate person, so she had made the choice to address the Hulk as a separate person, and that seemed to have gotten her a small amount of respect from the creature. “Thank you, Hulk.” 

They had won the day, but the city had suffered. It would take years for it to fully recover from the damage. Peggy would do what she could to help, but for now, all she could muster following the battle was enough strength and will power to sit up in a chair and slowly eat the shawarma Tony had insisted on. Her body ached, she had injuries that actually hurt, and she was exhausted. She was also very impressed. They had been thrown together in the heat of the moment and easily gelled into a proper team, though they were rough around the edges, a team, nonetheless. She took each of them in as they ate in silence, Stark, Romanoff, Barton, Banner, and Thor. She might be able to make this work. 

Slowly each of the others left until it was just her and Tony sitting alone in the restaurant as the staff continued to clean up debris and rumble around them. She had offered to help but was shooed away with grateful thanks and lots of food, which she was grateful for because that fight had taken a lot out of her. She had caught Tony stealing glances at her as if he were trying to work up the nerve to talk to her now that the danger was over, and they were alone. She offered him a weak, reassuring smile, silently encouraging to go ahead and ask. 

“Was there something between you and my old man?” Tony asks bluntly, his voice a bit rough and gravely from the fight.

Peggy looks up at him while reaching for her paper cup of watered-down soda now that the ice had melted. “Romantically? No, no there was nothing romantic between Howard and I.” She takes a sip, giving herself a moment to think about Howard, to mourn his loss in her life, and then set the cup down again. “Howard was the irritating little brother I never wanted but loved fiercely despite how much he bloody annoyed me.” 

Tony smiles a bit, but then his small smile fades completely as he admits, “He didn’t talk about you very much. Just enough that I know you were important to him. I think it hurt him a lot to talk about you. He missed you like crazy, and I’ve always wondered why.”

“I miss him.” Peggy admits softly. “I miss him very much.” 

Howard’s son reaches over and places his hand over hers and smiles. Howard was actually a piss poor father, a real jackass at times especially when he was drunk, he was distant, cold, and neglectful. But Tony could see how much Peggy had loved his father and how much she missed him, so he could offer her a bit of comfort for his dad’s sake. 

Walking into Fury’s office the next morning Peggy tossed ten bucks on his desk before saying, “Who the bloody hell ordered that nuke? And why did they want it to look as if it came from SHIELD?” 

“You know the questions, I knew you would, wanna help me figure out the answer?” Fury replied as he pocketed the ten bucks. 

“Yes.” Peggy said firmly. “But this doesn’t mean Phil gets to sew a SHEILD patch on my uniform just yet.”


	9. Chapter 9

While both Tony and Steve had offered her a place to live in New York, Peggy simply could not make her home there. Nor could she return to England, both places had featured too heavily in daydreams never meant to be. So she chose to find a place in Washington D.C. that would allow her to easily return to New York if the Avengers were needed, access SHIELD resources if she needed them, and kept her close to her newly discovered family. Her nephew, James Martin Carter Rogers, was born in 1962, seventeen years after Peggy went into the ice, over twenty years since she and her parents had been told Michael had died. Twenty years of a life lived primarily as a brainwashed enemy agent, used by wartime allies turned cold war enemies, to spy, sabotage, and kill. It was still hard for Peggy to wrap her head around Michael’s story, she simply couldn’t picture her beloved brother as the man in the SHIELD file Steve had given her. It was much easier, however, for her to believe Michael would sacrifice his own life to protect that of his child’s. Peggy had no doubt that the man was Michael’s son. She could see Michael in James Martin’s features, in his eyes, he hard those dark Carter eyes, just like her, and so did his daughter. 

Meeting James Martin, which is what Peggy had chosen to call him, was strange to the say the least. Peggy had been twenty-one when she’d been given the super soldier serum, she’d been twenty-four when she went into the ice. Though chronologically she was ninety-two, she looked as if she were the same age as Sharon, while her brother’s son appeared to be the elder of them. While he looked like her biological brother, James Martin reminded her a lot of her chosen brothers in the way he acted, spoke, and even laughed. He was very much Steve’s and Bucky’s son, and that warmed her heart. James Martin was a university professor and his wife, Sharon’s mother, was a nurse. They were lovely and had welcomed Peggy home with warmth and joy. 

Peggy’s apartment was a rooftop loft with small garden spaces, half an upstairs the looked out over the open floor plan of the rest of the space, brick walls, and a spiral staircase that Sharon and Phil helped her furnish and decorate. Every morning, just as the sun was coming up, she went for a run through the city, which is how she met Sam Wilson. Sam’s a veteran from a different war, but he still understood her in ways that Sharon, Phil, Tony, even Natasha couldn’t. He understood why she had plywood between her mattress and box spring, the nightmares that woke her covered in sweat in the middle of the night, and her reluctance to attend gatherings of other World War 2 vets. Though she does give in on that last part eventually and is soon a regular face at the V.A. center. Slowly but surely, Peggy builds a life for herself as she adjusts to living in the modern age. 

Although her introduction to things in this new modern age she found herself in wasn’t always smooth or gentle. Sometimes the differences in the way things were now slapped her unexpectedly in the face. 

She awakens with a gasp, her body covered in sweat and shivering from the cold that lingered in her mind and chest from the nightmare. She’s gotten maybe three hours of sleep, and she knows that’s all she’s going to get so Peggy gets out of bed and heads downstairs to her kitchen to make tea. With a good strong cup of Barry’s slightly sweet with a healthy splash of milk, Peggy settles on her sofa and reaches for the television remote. She turns on the wall mounted television for background noise as she pulls out her files. The Avengers were a hammer and chisel, if they were going to uncover what had led to the nuke launched at New York, she would need a team that allowed her to be a hidden blade. That team consisted of Sharon, Phil, Natasha, a woman Phil trusted unconditionally named May, and Sharon’s recommendation of a woman named Morse since Fury would be lost without Maria Hill at his side. They’d managed to discover the identities of the World Security Council, and Peggy was studying them, their lives, their pasts, every single aspect of their existence no matter how large or how small. 

With tea in hand, her toes scrunching into the sofa cushion under a throw pillow, and a soft blanket tugged on over her shoulders, Peggy looked over the file for Louise Hawley, who as it turned out was the daughter of Pamela Hawley, a Red Cross nurse Nick Fury Sr. had dated for a time during the war. Peggy looks up from the file from time to time, her gaze drifting over to the television where it would appear some kind of medical drama was on. It was the one Sharon and Phil talked about, the one with McDreamy, McSteamy, and the Twisted Sisters. The scene playing out on screen seemed to be taking place in a bar, where a dark haired, dark eyed, curvy woman in a leather jacket appears to be upset about something. Peggy sort of watches as the rather attractive woman flees to the bathroom and is soon followed by a cute blonde with short bouncy hair and bright blue eyes. The blonde says some sweet things to cheer the brunette up, and the more she talks the more Peggy pays attention because there seems to be something more happening between the two women, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. Peggy takes a sip of her tea just as the attractive brunette laughs while asking for the names of people who might be attracted to her, and then Peggy chokes on her tea as she watches in disbelief as the cute blonde kisses the attractive brunette. It was the kind of kiss that had Peggy blushing, followed by the kind of smiles she’d seen only in private, secret, moments. 

This discovery leads Peggy down an internet rabbit hole full of google searches and YouTube videos. Apparently, finding a person of your own gender attractive, loving someone of the same sex, was no longer a dark, sinful, shameful, illegal secret. Being Out and Proud was a thing, there had been riots, and movements, and changes to the laws. There were parades every summer, and flags, and same sex couples on television, and celebrities with partners and children, and the kind of happy lives Peggy had only ever fantasized about. She misses her run, and her morning at the V.A which prompts a text from Sam wanting to know if she was alright. Peggy apologies and reassures Sam she’s fine, she’d just gotten caught up in some research. Then she calls Steve to tell him off for not telling her about all of this sooner. Not that she would need to act on this new information any time soon. She was too focused on getting her life back on track to deal with matters of the heart. There was still so much she needed to learn about the world she was now living in before she even thought of pulling her heart out of its little shadow box of pain and grief. Her heart and soul still belonged to Angie, and for now Peggy would just leave them with her. But knowing of the possibilities was exciting.

“Say, Cap, I’ve been thinkin’.” Sam says a few days later as they're leaving the V.A. center after a group meeting. 

“Oh dear.” Peggy replies, a soft, warm, but sad smile on her painted lips. Time spent at the V.A. was very bittersweet for her. While she enjoyed the camaraderie of being with other vets, being around them was also a reminder of the passage of time she hadn’t been a part of, as well as evidence that her war had not been the last war. Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf, Afghanistan, Iraq, and a dozen or more other wars or ‘military conflicts’ happened while she was away, and Peggy was starting to understand the anger and resentment her father felt when her war broke out. His war, the Great War, had been meant to be the war to end all wars. 

“You’re funny.” Sam says deadpan at her teasing. “Anyway, I was thinking that it wouldn’t be too hard or too much trouble to get a reunion of the 107th together before the museum exhibit’s grand opening. Maybe set up a private sneak peek before the big shindig, that way you’re not slammed by all the stuff that’s bound to come up.” 

“And by stuff you mean the emotional baggage that comes with severe PTSD and Survivor's Guilt?” Peggy raises an eyebrow at Sam. She’d told him to stop using kid gloves with her, but he was her friend, so he continued to be gentle about such things anyway. “I’m not emotionally stunted, Samuel. I’m English.” She grumbled at him. “Just say what you bloody need or want to say.” 

“Ok, I think you should face the exhibit and your men on your own, before the official party and publicity.” Sam replies but their conversation is cut off as they near the parking lot. There’s a woman with red hair, in tight fitting jeans, and a leather jacket leaning against a restored Harley Davidson Liberator that Sam knows is Peggy’s. 

“Hey Grandma!” Natasha calls out to Peggy with a smirk. “We gotta go. If we leave now, we could catch the early bird special after.”

Peggy replies with something rude in Russian that makes Natasha laugh. 

“Friend of yours?” Sam asks while eyeing the redhead. 

“Not sure yet.” Peggy admits before saying goodbye to Sam and walking over to her bike and Natasha. She says something else in Russian as she mounts the bike, and Natasha laughs again as she gets on behind her.

Bobbi Morse was a talented undercover agent. She’d been able to uncover that Alexander Pierce was the one pulling the strings at the World Security Council, and before him it had been a man named Malick. The two men, and a second WSC member named Rockwell, were up to something, but what? That was the question that Peggy and Natasha were going to try and answer. Sharon had tracked Pierce’s digital footprints to what appeared to be an ocean tanker in international waters. The mission was to infiltrate and see what they could find. 

“So,” Natasha says as they’re gearing up on the cloaked quinjet piloted by Melinda May. “Fly boy is pretty cute.” 

Peggy glances over at the redhead with a furrowed brow. “Fly boy?” 

“Tech Sergeant Samuel Thomas Wilson, U.S. Air Force, non-active.” Sharon says from Peggy’s other side. The three of them were the strike team on this, with Coulson and May as backup. 

“Are you two…” Natasha asks with a smile and an eyebrow raise that fills in all the blanks. 

Peggy rolls her eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“He seems like a pretty nice guy on paper, Aunt Peg.” Sharon says while giving the other woman a warm smile, unlike the innuendo filled grin Natasha was flashing her. 

“What did you do?” Peggy demands as she looks at the young woman. “Run a background check on him?” 

Sharon held up her hands and shook her head. “No, Aunt Peg, of course I didn’t.” The blonde reassures her. “Nat did.” 

When Peggy’s gaze cut to her, Natasha just shrugged. “We’re hunting big game. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t someone planted to get in the way.” The look Peggy continued to give her told Natasha she only partly believed her. “Coulson was worried?” 

Peggy rolled her eyes as she placed her shield on her back. “I’m not ready to even consider seeing someone, and while Sam is lovely and a wonderful friend, he’s not my type.” 

Natasha, blunt as she was, and knowing the era in which Peggy had come from, asked, “Because he’s black?” 

“Because” Peggy replied as she walked towards the opening hatch. She smiled to herself, and her spur of the moment decision, and continued just as she jumped, “He’s male.” 

“Good to know.” Natasha replies with a smirk. 

Sharon blinks, but not because of what her aunt had just admitted to, but because, “Did she just jump without a chute?” 

Natasha laughed. “Yeah, she does that, a lot.” 

While Sharon took care of security, keeping them all off any video feeds, disconnecting alarms, and guiding the other two through the ship, Natasha went to retrieve the data they were looking for. Meanwhile, Peggy was exploring the ship. What was Pierce hiding on this ghost ship of his? She found the answer below deck in the cargo hold and it twisted her stomach while sending ice through her veins. Reaching into the crate she’d just opened Peggy pulled out the hauntingly familiar goggled, black and green mask, and stares into its lifeless, nightmarish face before clenching it in her fist. Hydra. 

Hydra fell apart after Schmidt’s death. Bucky and the Howling Commandos spent the years after the end of the war cleaning up any remaining cells and collecting technology and weapons. But a few of the higher-ranking officers managed to slip away despite Bucky’s best efforts, men like Heinrich Zemo, who according to Junior Juniper was the man who’d fought with Angie on the edge of that bluff, the man who stabbed her, who sent her over the edge to her death. Hydra had taken Peggy’s everything in their attempt at world domination. She would be damned if they returned to take anything else from her. 

Once Natasha had the data they came for, the team was extracted by May and Coulson. The tension rolling off Peggy quickly filled the compact space of the stealth quinjet, and for a few moments the four SHIELD agents played a quiet game of ‘you ask her’ until Natasha finally looked at Peggy and asked, “What did you find?” 

Peggy threw the mask to the floor. “Hydra. Pierce is trying to revive Hydra.” 

“We need to get that data back to Fury ASAP.” Coulson says firmly. 

Sharon shakes her head in the negative. “I don’t think taking it directly to SHIELD is a good idea.” 

“Why?” Peggy asks, her frown deepening. 

“I saw Sitwell on that ship.” Sharon answers. 

“Are you saying SHIELD could be compromised?” Coulson looks doubtful and yet extremely worried, as well as angry that someone would dare come at SHIELD from within. 

“Let's be overly cautious, but let’s not jump to worse case scenarios.” Peggy orders. “Coulson, I’ll leave it up to you to get Fury up to speed. Carter, poke around a bit at the Trisk, see what you can uncover on the sly. May, reach out to Morse, see what she knows. Romanoff and I will deal with the data.” 

Natasha tossed Peggy the keys to her company car once they’d landed at the SHIELD airfield, and then slipped into the passenger seat. Peggy watched the other spy pull a laptop from under her seat and raised an eyebrow. Natasha just smirked as she opened it and went to work. It didn’t take long for the redhead to start muttering and swearing in Russian. There was an embedded failsafe that was triggered as soon as Natasha tried overriding the evolving encryption that kept all the copied files locked up tight. “Well,” Natasha says as she looks up at Peggy. They share a look that lets the other know they are having the same bad feeling about this. “If they didn’t know someone was sniffing around before, they do now.” 

“We need a safe place to try again.” Peggy replies with a nod of acknowledgment to Natasha’s statement. 

“I know a place.” Natasha says after a moment of thought. “But I’m going to need a few things before we head there, and if Pierce knows he’s being targeted, he’s going to go on alert.” 

Peggy nods again. “Agreed.”

Natasha reaches into the back seat and pulls out a gym bag. She has several changes of clothes and a couple of hats, glasses, and sunglasses, the types of things she would need to conceal her identity. When she handed Peggy a long sleeve shirt with a hood on it, a zip up sweatshirt, a pair of glasses, and a baseball cap, the older spy blinked. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Peggy asks, eyeing the pile of random things in her lap.

“We have to assume we’re being tracked.” Natasha tells her. “We need to disappear into a crowd.” 

“So, this is your idea of disguise?” Peggy questioned and then shook her head disapprovingly. “Darling, this isn’t a disguise, this is a lazy Saturday afternoon.” She smiles a little as she adds, “Let Auntie Peggy show you how it’s done.” 

She drives them to the airport and leaves the SHIELD car in a tow away zone. Natasha is fairly sure the laptop she’d used now had a tracker on it, so they left that behind as well, taking only the USB drive with the data on it. Peggy leads Natasha into the airport, making it seem as if they were buying tickets and going past the gates, but what they really did was slip back out of the airport and into the long-term parking garage. Thankfully the carrying case Coulson had made for her shield looked like an art portfolio backpack, otherwise it would be a bit harder for them to blend in. Peggy walks up to a mundane looking pickup truck and screws off the ball shaped part of the trailer hitch and shakes out a pair keys. Under the backseat of the truck’s cab Peggy has an army issued duffel bag stashed away. She smirks at Natasha as she opens it and after a few moments of searching pulls out two blonde wigs. “We’re in a blind spot for the garage’s cameras, we should change here before leaving.” 

“Well damn, Carter, I’m impressed.” Natasha replies as she takes the short bob styled wig from Peggy’s outstretched hand. 

“Wait until you see what I can do with a bit of makeup.” Peggy replies as she pulls out a travel sized makeup case and shakes it a bit to cause its contents to rattle. 

They go to an electronics store to get whatever it is that Natasha needs to make things work at their next destination. While she’s getting what she needs, she’d asked Peggy to grab a couple of prepaid smartphones, the kind that travelers often take as a way of saving money. No one looks twice at the pair until one of the employees starts to flirt with Peggy. Men, Peggy had discovered, were no longer like the men she had known. Today's men could be very aggressive and entitled in their pursuit of an attractive woman, not that the men of her time couldn’t be that way as well, but these days those traits seemed more prevalent than in her time. While the men in her time undoubtedly believed they owned their women, especially after marriage, at least they were charming about it. Normally Peggy had no problems dealing with these kinds of men, then or now, but today she was simply not in the mood for it. This man seemed particularly thick skulled and Peggy was about two seconds from incapacitating him. 

“Babe?” Natasha’s voice with a Boston lilt to it called out. “Did you get the phones? I really do think it’ll be cheaper this way, rather than running up our bill with roaming charges.” 

Peggy plays along easily, her own voice sounded perfectly midwestern American. “Yes, I think I got the ones you wanted.” 

Natasha smiles as she steps up to Peggy, glances at the phone packages in her hand, and then leans up and kisses her in a way that makes the employee wander off to hide the bulge in his pants. When Natasha pulls back, she’s smiling a huge smile. “Not half bad, ‘babe’.” 

Peggy smirks. “Not half bad yourself, but don’t get any ideas, dear.”

Once they’re back on the road Natasha tells Peggy where they’re heading, and Peggy’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. What kind of ghosts would be waiting for her at Camp Lehigh? What memories would come flooding back to haunt her dreams and fuel her nightmares? Lehigh is where she’d meet Steve, where she had trained him and their friendship had started. It’s where she would stay up late into the night talking to Abraham Erskine until she inevitably failed at hiding a yawn and he would send her to bed with a gentle pat on her cheek and a soft, “Gute nacht, Liebchen. Pleasant dreams, my dear.” Lehigh is where the lone spy learned to be a soldier, where she learned to command soldiers. It’s where she first set eyes on Angie. 

“You alright there, Carter?” Natasha asks softly. 

“Fine.” Peggy replies as she forces herself to loosen her grip on the steering wheel. She needed to distract herself so she could focus on driving and not her memories and apprehension over the pandora’s box they were about to walk into. “So, you seemed pretty at ease back there, kissing a girl in public like that.” 

“I’ve kissed my fair share of girls.” Natasha admits with a warm smile. “Most for my own personal enjoyment, some for the job.” 

Peggy thinks about what she’s observed between Natasha and Sharon and asks, “My niece?” 

Natasha snorts and shakes her head. “Sharon and I are just friends, but Hill and I have been known to have some fun together.” 

“Hill?” Peggy glances over at Natasha, eyebrow raised. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Natasha smiles fondly. “We started out all, I don’t like or trust you but I’m going to fuck you anyway, but now, now it’s completely different.” 

Peggy’s quiet for a moment before admitting, “It’s strange for me, this openness about such things.” 

“Living in the future does have some perks.” Natasha replies. “There are still some real assholes out there, but you can be a girl kissing a girl and not worry about being thrown in the loony bin and electro shocked into mindless oblivion.” 

It wasn’t that Peggy missed the past; she missed the people she’d left behind in the past. Angie certainly, but also Howard and Bucky, and even Steve. Yes, he was still alive, he was once again a presence in her life, but he wasn’t her Steve anymore. She grieved for them, all of them, and for the dreams she’d had of her future. “The food is also better, no polio is a good thing, and a female prime minster was a pleasant surprise. Though I’m not sure I’d have gotten along with the Iron Lady very well.” 

Lehigh had been SHIELD’s first base of operations but had been abandoned long ago. It felt like a ghost town now, eerie, and quiet, and full of specters from her past. Peggy could almost see the synchronized marching of the men stationed here, the hurried rush of officers, and that stray dog that adopted the camp as his home. The air smelled of the trees surrounding the camp, clean and crisp, but if Peggy closed her eyes, she could almost smell the gunpowder, grease and oil, and sweat of hard training soldiers. She and Natasha, both experienced and highly trained spies, made no sound as they walked towards what used to be the command building. But Peggy heard the shouts of drill sergeants, the bawdy chants of drilling units, weapons fire, and Phillips swearing a blue streak. 

She and Natasha make their way inside the main building and then deep underground. Natasha has explained that there is an old computer system down there that is self-contained, and after some tinkering to make it compatible with the USB drive, she’ll be able to work at decrypting the files. “We’re far enough underground that the tracking failsafe embedded in the data shouldn’t be easily picked up. I’ll need to find that and isolate it before transferring the files onto a clean drive.”

“Do what you need to do.” Peggy reassures. “I’ll keep watch.” She watches Natasha work, and realizes that some of her training and skills need some serious updating. Peggy wonders for a moment if perhaps she should ask Tony to give her a crash course in working with modern technology, not just being entertained by it. While Natasha works, Peggy explores a bit and comes across an office with Steve’s and Bucky’s names on the door. She smiles with fondness and amusement as she tries to picture Sergeant Barnes behind a desk. Soon Peggy’s nostalgia is overcome by a sense of unease, something triggering her instincts, and she heads back to Natasha. “I think you need to pick up the pace, Nat.” 

“Almost there.” Natasha replies. 

Peggy’s dark eyes scan everything around them as she reaches for her shield on her back and the gun on her hip. Peggy moves towards the doorway of the concealed computer room and scans the room outside of it carefully. “Natasha.” 

“Almost, just a few more minutes.” Natasha calls back. 

They’re not alone, Peggy’s sure of it. She’s just about to call out to Natasha again when the redhead says she’s done. Peggy watches her pocket a small black rectangular device while dropping the USB drive to the floor and smashing it with her boot. Natasha doesn’t question Peggy’s defensive stance, shield held at chest level, gun held just below the edge of the shield, she simply draws her own weapon and nods at Peggy, indicating she should lead. 

The gunshot echoes in the corridor but not as loudly as the sound of the bullet hitting Peggy’s shield. Peggy looks in the direction of where the shot came from but sees nothing. She and Natasha scramble for the surface and the truck. They need to get the information to Fury more than they needed to hunt down who was shooting at them. The problem was that whoever was shooting at them didn’t want them leaving. The tires on the truck have been slashed, but they were able to stumble across an old jeep which Peggy hotwired. They didn’t get too far down the road before Peggy caught sight of a motorcycle following them. The rider was helmeted, dressed all in black, slender build, and aiming a gun at them. 

“Friend of yours?” Peggy asks Natasha as she tries to lose the person shooting at them.

Natasha shrugs as she returns fire. “Doubtful, I don’t have many friends, and the ones who would want to kill me, wouldn’t do it without showing me their faces first.” 

Peggy gets a good look at the bike in the rearview and makes the choice to take the jeep off road, knowing the bike couldn’t follow. It’s a rough, sudden turn, and she reaches out to grab Natasha by the waistband of her jeans to pull her back into her seat. 

“I managed to send Hill a text before we were so rudely shot at, but we’ll need a place to lay low until we get a response for a rendezvous.” Natasha says as she holds on as the jeep bounces around.

“I know a place.” Peggy replies. 

They ditch the jeep and take two buses and a subway train before walking to Sam Wilson’s house and knocking on his sliding glass door. “Sorry about this mate.” Peggy says as Sam stares at her and Natasha. “We need a place to lay low for a bit.” 

“Someone’s trying to kill us.” Natasha adds. 

Sam stares at the two for a moment and then steps aside to let them in. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“Thank you, Sam.” Peggy tells him as she passes him. 

They take turns cleaning up in Sam’s bathroom. When Peggy comes out in a pair of Sam’s sweats and a t-shirt, she finds Natasha sitting on Sam’s bed. She knew of Natasha’s past, where she came from, who she used to work for, and Peggy wouldn’t lie and say she hadn’t been concerned about partnering up with the Russian. Now though, now, Peggy’s instincts told her she could trust Natasha. “You ok?” 

Natasha nods. “Guess that bear we’ve been poking since New York is finally awake and roaring in anger.” 

“It was bound to happen.” Peggy replies as she sits beside the redhead on Sam’s bed. 

“Makes things harder.” Natasha says. 

Peggy smiles. “Makes them more interesting.” 

Natasha laughed. “I like you Carter.” The two share a laugh, defusing some of the tension they’d been under since May had announced they were coming up on the ghost ship. Reaching out Natasha picks up the dog tags resting against Peggy’s U.S.A.F t-shirt clad chest and reads the names. One set is Peggy’s of course, but the second set, Natasha asks about in a soft, almost reverent voice, because she understood why a person would wear a second set of tags. “A. Martinelli? As in Angela Martinelli?” 

“Yes.” Peggy replied with a nod. “How do you…” 

“Her name is the second name listed on the Wall of Valor.” Natasha replies. “Yours is the first.” She gently lays the dog tags back against Peggy’s chest. “Was she your girl?” 

Again, Peggy nods as she presses her hand against the tags. “Yes, she was.” 

“That explains the sadness in your eyes.” Natasha says gently.

Sam knocks to say breakfast is ready. Natasha stands, tells them to save her some, and then heads for the bathroom for her turn in the shower. Peggy stands and follows Sam to his kitchen. Sam makes her a plate and sets it on the table for her and smiles at her in a way that has her demanding, “What?” 

“You and the redhead?” Sam teases with a cheeky grin. 

“Me and Natasha?” Peggy has to fight the habit of denying that she was a woman attracted to other women. She isn’t seeing judgement or disgust in Sam’s eyes, in fact his smirk is teasing, and almost hopeful? “We’re just friends.” She reaches for her dog tags again. “I’m not ready for anything more than that.” 

“I get it.” Sam replies as he hands her a cup of coffee. “I do, I’m no stranger to grief. Everyone deals with it differently and in their own time. But just make sure you’re moving through the grief, Peggy, not standing still in it and letting it swallow you up.”

When Natasha joins them, she commandeers Sam’s laptop, and they start going through some of the files. Pierce and Malick, they had already suspected as being at the top of this Hydra revival plan. The senator from Pennsylvania, Stern, was a bit of a surprise. They weren’t surprised he was corrupt, only that he had the backbone and stomach for what it would take to recreate Hydra. It was clear that what they needed to do was get Pierce, he seemed to be at the top of this pile of vile men, but they also needed to figure out which of these plans was the closest to being launched and stop it. The answer to figuring this out hit Peggy in a very peculiar way. “My grandfather was a gamekeeper on a country estate. When he was a boy, he loved hunting burrow animals using ferrets.” Natasha and Sam looked confused. Peggy rolled her eyes. “We catch the big game using a little weasel.” 

“Sitwell.” Natasha clues in and smirks. “Ok, but how do we catch the weasel? If Pierce is onto us, Sitwell isn’t going to just come along quietly.” 

“That’s where I come in.” Sam says as he tosses a stack of folders onto the table. “I’m not SHIELD, but I do have something to offer.” 

Natasha is familiar with the ops in Sam’s files and she’s impressed which impressed Peggy even further. When Peggy picks up the second file and looks over what’s in it, she raises an eyebrow as she looks between the schematics and stats to Sam. “I thought you were a pilot?” 

“I said I flew, didn’t say a thing about what I flew.” Sam replies with a cheeky grin.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam.” Peggy says gently. “You got out for a reason.” 

“And I ain’t lookin’ to get back into the Air Force.” Sam tells her. “But my friend, who happens to be freaking Captain Britain, needs my help, so I am all in.” 

Peggy struggles with the choice for a moment, but in the end, she knows Sam wouldn’t be offering if he didn’t understand what he was getting into. “Alright. So, you got one of these falcon things just laying around?” 

“No but I know where to get one.” Sam answers. “Won’t be easy though.” 

“Easy is never as much fun as doing it the hard way.” Natasha smirks. 

Sam blinks. “You’re a little scary.” 

Peggy laughs as Natasha just shrugs and smirks. 

Once they have Sam’s exo-7 falcon wing suit, they set the trap for Sitwell. Sam isn’t half bad at this, easily getting Sitwell to join him, and bringing him to the car where Peggy is waiting. She takes him to the roof where Natasha had been aiming the sniper rifle at him and shoves him up the stairs and out the door, onto the roof, bombarding him with heated questions the whole time. Sitwell is shaken, and clearly terrified of the Black Widow, but he’s also fairly certain that the war hero and beacon of hope and justice that is Captain Carter, won't allow the Russian assassin to hurt him. Sitwell must have mistaken her for someone else, because Peggy has no problem dangling the little weasel over the edge, and then letting go when he refuses to answer her questions. 

“Ya know, Peg,” Natasha says casually as they stand there. “You were in the ice for a rrrreeeaaaally long time.” 

“Was I?” Peggy replies deadpan and with a straight face. “I hadn’t been aware of that fact, thank you for mentioning it, darling.” 

Natasha smirks, “I’m just saying, ya know, that it’s been a long time since 1945, and if you were to have an itch that needed to be scratched, I know a couple of girls who would be happy to help. I know this lawyer, friend of a friend, Jen. Oh, or Lauren in accounting is great at keeping it casual. Unless of course the thought of casual sex is an afront to your grandma sensibilities.” 

“I’ve spent a casual evening or two with a young woman.” Peggy huffs. “But they never had bright blue hair and an earring in their lip.”

“A lip piercing is basic, so are belly button and tongue piercings, though tongue piercings can be really enjoyable.” Natasha educates her friend while they wait. 

Peggy raises an eyebrow, “Those are basic? What else could you pierce that…” 

Natasha takes Peggy’s hand and presses it against her own breast and smirks. 

“Oh, well, that’s, interesting.” Peggy blushes crimson. 

Sam drops Sitwell at their feet and the weasel starts spilling his secrets. Pierce was planning a major terrorist attack using helicarriers that he was going to blame on SHIELD. Unfortunately, that’s all they got out of Sitwell before the sniper’s bullet hit him perfectly between the eyes. Peggy quickly pushed Natasha down to cover her while scanning the area for where the shot could have come from. She spots what looks like a quick flash and manages to reach her shield just in time to deflect the second bullet. Then she jumps to her feet and takes off running across the rooftops, leaping the gaps between buildings like a child leaping over little streams of rainwater on a sidewalk, towards where she’d seen the flash. She sees the same black clad figure who’d been on the motorcycle chasing them out of Lehigh, running ahead of her, only the helmet is gone, and Peggy can see a long braid of dark blonde hair. Pulling her shield from her back, Peggy throws it hard right at the retreating assassin, confident in her throw, knowing it’s worked hundreds of times before in stopping an enemy in their tracks. Only this time her quarry stops, reaches out, and catches the shield like it was a child’s toy disk. 

Peggy only gets a second or two to be stunned before the figure is turning to face her, weapon drawn, her shield still in hand. The face that greets her is blank, expressionless, but it knocks all the air from her lungs. Peggy’s heart stops as she looks into empty, soulless, blue eyes. Her mind is too busy trying to process who she’s seeing to autoregulate silly little things like beating her heart and breathing. It can’t be! It just can’t be! That’s impossible! And yet she takes a step closer to the woman, then another, and another despite the fact that the woman’s gun was aimed at her head. 

“Angie?” Peggy manages to force out despite there not being any air in her lungs. 

The woman tilts her head to the side and blinks. “Who the hell is Angie?” 

Sam swoops in, crashing into the woman, and grabbing for the shield she’d held in her hand. He calls out to Peggy as he flings it in her general direction. Instinct kicks in for Peggy and she catches the shield easily. The woman who looks so much like Angie that Peggy’s reacting on muscle memory alone, draws another weapon, and aims it at Sam. Peggy dives in, shielding her friend from the spray of bullets. When the shooting stops, and Peggy peaks over the shield, the woman is gone and Sam’s on the rooftop with a busted machinal wing. Seeing that her friend was possibly hurt snapped Peggy out of her trance like state and she takes in a sharp breath. “Sam? Are you alright?” 

Sam moans a bit. “Yeah, fine, think I scraped my damn knee though.” 

When they regroup with Natasha the redhead asks, “What the hell just happened?” 

Peggy shakes her head. “I don’t know.” 

By the time they make it to the street below Maria Hill is waiting there with a black hummer. They discreetly retrieve Sitwell’s body, and then Hill takes them to one of Fury’s secure little hidey holes. Peggy gives herself over to her training, allowing Captain Carter to dominate her personality in order to keep herself focused on the mission. She could not get lost in the past right now, she had no time for emotions, or memories, or thoughts about how that woman could look so much like Angie. She’d even sounded like Angie. The helicarrier attack was imminent and Alexander Pierce needed to be stopped. 

“Ballistics say the bullet used to kill Sitwell was the same make as the one used to kill Natasha’s Iranian nuclear engineer.” Hill reports. 

Natasha frowns from where she’s sat on the edge of a table covered in printed out files and pictures. “The Winter Soldier? The Winter Soldier is Russian, why would Hydra have access?”

“Who or what is the Winter Soldier?” Peggy asks, her dark gaze shifting between the other two women, Sam, and Fury. 

“One of Russia’s attempts at making, well, you.” Natasha replies. “World War One was a reality check for them. They weren’t the most powerful power in the world after all. So, they started these programs to reclaim and ensure their place in the world. The Red Room trained little orphan girls to be elite spies and ruthless assassins. The one left standing at the end of each class of girls is given the title Black Widow.” She pauses and looks at Peggy as if she’s worried this will chance how Peggy feels about her. “That’s the program I came out of.” 

“You’re talented and skilled, Natasha.” Peggy says gently, her tone letting the other woman know they were still good. “But I don’t think you’d be able to catch my shield at full force. What were the other programs?” 

“The Wolf Spider program, a boy version of the Black Widow program, but it never really got off the ground. The Red Guardians.” Natasha relaxes a bit more knowing she still had Peggy’s trust. “Russia’s attempts at making super soldiers. They came marginally close once, but never had any real success. The Winter Soldier, however, was a thing all on its own. Russian’s ultimate secret weapon.” 

“Your pinko counterpart, Cap.” Fury tosses out and then goes on. “We have to assume that the Winter Soldier is in play when it comes to taking down Pierce.” 

“You let me worry about the Winter Soldier.” Peggy says firmly. 

Fury smiles a huge smile as he kicks his feet up, putting them on the table as he leans back in his chair. “I can’t wait to see the look on that son of bitch’s face.” 

They were under some kind of old dam. Peggy slips away during preparations to catch her breath and clear her mind. She stands on an old bridge with her eyes closed, listening to the rush of the water below. She was trying to slip what Natasha had said into slots to make what she saw, who she thinks she saw, make sense. But she didn’t have enough information to decode this particular mystery. 

“Are you sure you got this?” Natasha asks as she steps up beside Peggy. “The Winter Soldier has you shook, Carter. Are you positive you can do this?” 

“It’s like Fury said, the Winter Soldier was meant to be my counterpart.” Peggy replies. “Created because I’d been created, yes?” 

“Partly, yeah.” Natasha nods. “But not entirely.” 

“Either way, the Winter Soldier is my responsibility.” Peggy says firmly. She looks down at her compass, which is open in her hand, and brushes her thumb over Angie’s flower. If the Winter Soldier was, by some miracle, Angie, then Peggy was absolutely going to try and save her.


	10. Chapter 10

** Interlude **

**1945**

The sounds of battle in the distance instantly grabbed Angie Martinelli’s attention. Taking a few steps away from the radio set up where the new kid, Jonathan ‘Junior’ Juniper, monitored the chatter, Angie turned towards those distant sounds and stared off into the woods as if she could force herself to see what was happening. Zola was an important capture, but what made him an important capture also made him a dangerous one, and Angie worried because the people she cared about most were out there doing the capturing. She and Peggy had gotten up hours before the rest of the Howling Commandos and slipped away from camp for some time alone, and Peggy did her best to sooth Angie’s concerns and fears with gentle reassurances and tender touches. It had worked for a little while, but then Angie had watched Peggy, Steve, Bucky, and the Howlies disappear into the dark woods, and all of her worries had come flooding back. She tried to reason with herself, Peggy was a super soldier, she had these amazing superhuman abilities, but Peggy invulnerability didn’t mean she was invincible.

“Danvers reports that Cap’s in the compound.” Junior calls out to those who have been left in the camp as backup. 

Angie closes her eyes and begins to pray. “Please watch over them. Please keep her safe.” 

“Barnes says to keep an eye out for runners.” Comes Junior’s next report. 

Taking a deep breath Angie steels herself the way she’d seen Peggy do so many times since their first meeting at Camp Lehigh in New Jersey where Angie had been introduced to Miss. America a.k.a Betty Carver, as one of her backup girls. It’s only been a few years, but to Angie it feels like it’s been a lifetime since she’d discovered the truth about Peggy Carter and her little spy cell of S.O.E. gals masquerading as showgirls. Walking back over to the radio set up, Angie picks up her Lee–Enfield No 5 Mk I rifle and checks it over while calling out, “You heard the boy, fellas, let's get ready to bat cleanup.”

“Always ready to pull a Johnson, Martinelli. You up for it?” Came a chuckled reply that got a few laughs.

“Don’t come at me with your Boston bullshit, O’Malley.” Angie shouts back. “The Dodgers are making a run for the playoffs, meanwhile your Sox are at the bottom of wash heap with dirty drawers.” 

O’Malley flips her off as he calls out, “Leave the real baseball to the men, Martinelli. You gals got your very own little girls only league now, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, we do.” Angie huffs. “And the Peaches could kick Boston’s ass too.” 

“My money is on the Tigers.” Junior throws in. 

Angie and O’Malley both laugh at the boy expense. “Tell you what, Junior.” Angie responds. “If Detroit wins the World Series, I’ll give you ten bucks and a kiss.” 

“You’re on Broadway!” Junior replies, excited by the idea of even a peck on the cheek from the gorgeous girl.

They’re winding each other up for what’s headed their way. Brooklyn, Boston, Detroit, Cleveland, St. Louis, Chicago, in that moment, where they were from or which baseball team they rooted for didn’t really matter. What mattered was that they were all a bunch of kids in their twenties who were about to go into a fight that would be, kill or be killed. When the first Hydra soldiers reached their position, Angie fought the urge to throw up. She and Junior were to remain posted by the radio set waiting for the command to send in Fraiser to pick up Zola and transport him back to England. Once that was done, they would break down their set up and wait for rendezvous orders. The rest of their unit fought in the woods around them. Angie’s heart raced as she adjusted and readjusted her grip on her rifle. 

“Junior,” Angie orders on instinct. “Grab your gear, we gotta move.” 

The young man doesn’t argue or bristle over taking orders for a girl, he just does what he’s told and breaks down his radio setup so he can carry it on his back as they move. They pull back several hundred yards before they have to stop so Junior can relay Branes’ order to send in Fraiser and the air support. Several Hydra soldiers, the ones with full helmets that encased their whole heads, emerged from the tree line just as the order is sent. Junior drops his radio, and he reaches for his rifle. Tears begin to burn Angie’s eyes when O’Malley goes down, Smythe is next, Williams, then Becker. The bucketheads fall as well, and as soon as the last one hits the ground, Angie turns to Junior and that’s when she sees he’s been hit. She helps him over to a tree where she can prop him up while doing her best to field triage his wound. 

“You seem to be very far from your cabarets,” A heavily accented male voice calls out. “Signorina Russo.” There’s a soft click of a gun’s hammer being pulled back. “Are you the little songbird singing in the good Captain’s ear?” 

Giovanna Russo was one of Angie’s covers, the name she used to sing for German and Hydra soldiers in the dance halls and cabarets of occupied territories. She knew the man’s voice. She had listened to many of his conversions for the tiniest bits of information. It’s how Peggy knew to go to Wakanda. It’s how they knew Zola would be here. Angie had put her rife down to tend to Junior, but she still had her Webley on her hip. Angie began to stand and turn slowly, concealing her movements as she drew the pistol. She shot first, then replied, “What can I say, Baron Zemo, she appreciates a pretty little tune.”

She shot him in the shoulder, causing Zemo to drop his gun. She smiled smugly, which only made his angry face bypass red and go straight to purple. Zemo lunged for her, but Angie was quick, and well trained thanks to Peggy. Angie drew Zemo away from Junior, while doing her best to keep out of his reach as he charged towards her like an angry rhino. She fired on him again as she ran, grazing his thigh this time, but he managed to catch up to her and knock the pistol from her hand. He had a foot and about seventy pounds on her, so if he managed to grab her it would be a struggle and half to free herself. She could manage, Peggy had taught her how to fight an attacker who was bigger and stronger than she was, but knife wounds that barely miss vital organs tend to throw a girl off of her defense. Zemo grabs her by the throat, his pinkie slipping under the chain of her dog tags and forces her backwards by pushing on the knife he’d shoved into her body. At first Angie is too surprised by what’s happening to feel the pain, especially when the heels of her boots detect the edge of the cliff. 

“I’ll be sure to give Captain Britain your regards.” Zemo says as he pushes her over. 

Angie screams. 

Zemo drops his knife and shakes his hand free of the chain entangled around his pinkie as he stands there waiting. He smiles when he hears the splash below and then turns, hand pressed to his own wound, and walks away. 

The water is so cold, and on instinct Angie gasps, filling her airways with the icy water as she flails about. She’s being swept away by the fast-moving flow of water as it makes its way down from the mountain and through the woods. Angie tries like hell not to drown as she tries to regain control of her body and movement. But just as she thinks she has a handle on things, her head gets slammed hard against a rock. In the moment before she blacks out, Angie’s mind drifts from survival to Peggy…

“Come back to me, English, safe and sound.”

“Always my darling. Safe and sound, I promise.”

“I love you, Peggy Carter.” 

“I love you too, Angie, always and forever.” 

******

Later, after the Western Allies have left, Russian voices fill the silence of the forest as men in black uniforms with red stars on their black furred ear flap hats pick their way through the fallen bodies of soldiers. Most of them call out, “Etot mertv.” This one is dead. But one man, sent to search the ravine below, had wandered far enough downstream to come across one that was, “Zhivoy!” Alive. “Etot yeshche zhiv!” This one is still alive! 

She is wearing an allied uniform but does not have the identifying tags most soldiers wear. That makes no difference to them. If she survives her injuries, they will find a use for her, none of which require knowledge of who she is. Her comrades were long gone, she’d been left for dead, those who would miss her were already likely mourning for her. So, the Russians loaded her onto a truck and drove off. 

When Russia allied with the West, Vasily Karpov had been sent to work with the Strategic Scientific Reserve as their liaison. He had seen firsthand the power and abilities not only in the Western allies’ Captain Britain, but also the Nazis’ Red Skull, and it both awed and terrified him. He argued heatedly and often with Chester Phillips, “You do not understand, you cannot. You and the Germans, you have your Super-Soldiers, your secret weapons. But we Russians, we have nothing but the winter.” But the West refused time and again to share the secrets of Project Rebirth with them, so Karpov had no choice. He took what information he could find for himself. Replicating the singular success of Erskine and Stark proved difficult, even with Russia’s best scientific minds at his disposal. 

“Perhaps,” Karpov mused after yet another failed attempt. “The mistake is not ours but theirs.” 

“General?” One of the scientists inquired.

“We have been testing the process on men.” Karpov clarifies. “The Americans and the British, their super soldier, she is a woman.” 

“The Red Skull…” Another scientist spoke up to argue. 

“Was a chort, a demon.” Karpov shakes his head. “Power mad and disloyal. No, our guardian must be a symbol just as Captain Britain is to the West.” Looking around the room Karpov takes in the wounded men they had captured, the men given to him for his experiments, until his gaze lands on one particular soldier. “The woman you found, the one on the banks of the ravine below Zola’s compound, she continues to recover?” 

The first scientist who’d spoken up gives a sharp single nod. “Yes General. She is still recovering, but she grows stronger every day.” 

“Good.” Karpov smiles. “Begin the psychological protocols on her now, and when she is at full health, we begin the experiment again.” 

******

A small piece of her mind refuses to give in to the torture and manipulations. It clings to the truth of who she is, ‘I am Angie Martinelli from Brooklyn New York.’ It finds sanctuary in her memories, the smell of her Ma’s sauce on Sundays, baseball games with her Dad, fighting with her brothers, the soft, callused, warmth of Peggy’s hands on her skin, the way her name sounded when Peggy said it with that accent that made her knees weak. But they are relentless, and Angie is forced to hide her most precious memories so deeply, that when she finally breaks, not even she can find them. 

When she does finally break, it’s not because of what they’ve done to her, but from what she hears while it’s being done. She is strapped into a cold metal chair, in a cold room, it’s walls made of dark gray cinder block. The fluorescent lights are too bright, too harsh, her eyes burn in a way that not even blinking can relieve. She had been denied sleep, denied food, forced to suck water from a sponge between electro shocks. She tries to recall her name as she catches her breath, Angie, her name is Angie. She finds comfort in her memory of Peggy Carter’s smile. 

“Captain Britain is dead.” Someone says solemnly. 

‘What?” Karpov demands. 

The first voice explains that the Red Skull had a plane with bombs set for every major city in the world, including Moscow and St. Petersburg. “Captain Britain defeated him, then sacrificed herself to keep the bombs from launching. She saved us.” The man said, his voice awed and full of sorrow. “She saved us all.”

Captain Britain is dead. Captain Britain is Peggy Carter. Peggy Carter is the love of Angie Martinelli’s life. Peggy is dead. Peggy is dead! Angie gives in and goes away, lost in a cold, dark forest of grief and pain so far inside her own mind, she might as well be dead too.

**1948**

“Winter.” 

Her head lolls back and forth on her shoulders as she fights to regain awareness. She moans softly in response. 

“How do you feel, Winter?” Karpov asks her while a doctor and a nurse supervise his pet’s vitals as she’s revived from her time in the cryogenic chamber. Stark destroyed all knowledge regarding the machine used to create Captain Britain, and their attempts at forcing Stark to aide them, went up in smoke thanks for a personal vendetta against the man. So, they had to find their own way to trigger their version of the serum. 

“Cold.” She replies when she is able. Her whole body shakes and trembles and tingles. She moaned in pain. “It burns!” 

“I know.” Karpov responds gently. “Soon there will be balance, and you will feel warm and strong. I promise.” 

As soon as she has recovered, she is tested. Her strength, agility, and stamina increase with each treatment, while other test subjects remain the same or die from the process. With the war coming to an end there were no more test subjects to be found, so she became Karpov’s sole focus. She would be his Winter. 

“Feed her and let her rest.” Karpov orders after watching Winter train and fight for awhile. “Then fetch the Englishman. If she can best him, then I want her prepared for her first mission.” 

Most of the men around him nod and fall into step to fulfill his orders, but one man speaks out as they take their leave. “Are you sure about sending her after Belova?”

“Fennhoff cost us Stark as an asset.” Karpov replies. “He will not cost us another. He will be terminated, but Madam B wants her spiderling returned to the Red Room. If Winter can accomplish this, then Madam B has agreed to allow her to train in the Red Room.”

The second man shakes his head, “You put all of this time, effort, and expense into the American only to send her off to face the kind of crazy that would scare even Baba Yaga.” 

Karpov only smiles. “My Winter will prove her worth, you shall see old friend.” 

Winter returned from her mission badly injured, but with a bound and unconscious Irina Belova, known to the Americans as Dottie Underwood. She also returns with proof that Fennhoff is dead, as is his cellmate, a man named Zola. She is praised, well fed, allowed to heal, and then once again injected with serum and placed in the cryo-chamber for what Karpov called, “A long winter’s nap.” It was a trigger phrase, a part of the psychological protocols, that would allow him to shut down her mind, putting her into a coma like sleep. 

**1962**

Her mission was the Englishman. He had betrayed them, taken something important and fled, most likely to the West. The Englishman was to be terminated. The Wolf Spider was to be brought back to the General and the Program. The Englishman was good, their most experienced operative. The fact that he had been in service to the Program for two decades proved how good he was. But she was better, she was Mother Russia’s Winter Soldier. She tracked her target to a midwestern American city, Cleveland. He was staying in a rent by the week motel that was on a main street in a busy area of one the city’s neighboring suburbs. His choice of locations would not give him the advantages he thought it would. She watched him leave with the Wolf Spider from the restaurant across the street. After throwing cash on the table, she went out to the car she’d bought from a sale’s ad in the paper and drove down the block to a convenience store. She bought several bags of ice, a case of beer, and cigarettes. They were having a barbeque for her husband’s birthday, she commented causally as she paid the man behind the counter. Then she drove back to the motel, used the master key she’d already stolen to let herself into the Englishman’s room, and set to work. She filled the tub with the ice for the body once she’d completed her mission. It would give her time to drive across town to the Amtrak station with the Wolf Spider, and catch the next train to the closest city with an airport. 

After making sure there is nothing to alert or alarm the Englishmen when he returns, she hides, lying in wait for her pray and the safest moment to complete her mission. The Englishman is to be terminated, but the Wolf Spider is not to be harmed. When she does finally reveal herself he doesn’t seem surprised, in fact he seems calm, almost accepting of what is about to happen. But then he speaks, and everything goes wrong. 

“Please.” The Englishman says. “You don’t have to do this. My name is Michael, and this,” He indicates the sleeping infant tucked between pillows to keep him from rolling off the bed. “This is my son.” He pauses a moment and continues. “You have a name too, a proper name, not what they call you. You’re no more Winter than I am the Englishman, they’re just codenames.” Another pause, and then he repeats. “My name is Michael. Michael Carter.” 

Carter. The name hits her brain funny, like hitting the corner of your elbow on the edge of a surface. Her eyes twitch. Carter. Michael Carter. There’s a whisper of a voice from a deep, dark corner of her mind, accented, sad, a woman’s voice. “My brother, Michael, he was my best friend.” There’s a sudden sharp pain in her head, which causes her to press her non-dominate hand to her temple while tightening her hold on the gun with the silencer screwed on in the other. 

“You’re remembering something.” Michael tells her as he watches her reaction. “Something from before, before they found you, before they turned you into Winter. What is it? What do you remember?” 

She shakes her head, fighting the pain, unsure of whether she should push away the voice or embrace it. Her jaw is clenched tight, making the single word come out in a cold hiss. “Sister.” 

“Sister? Did you have a sister, Winter?” Michael asks her. “I did. I had a little sister, she was brilliant and brave, funny, and warm, caring, and annoying. I adored her. Her name was Margaret.” 

Margaret. Carter. Margaret Carter. Peggy. The pain hits her so hard she sinks to her knees. She keeps her gun trained on Michael, but he still bravely steps closer to her. 

“Don’t let them know you’ve had memories of before, Winter. They’ll take them away; they’ll punish you for them.” He catches her eyes and switches to speaking in Russian. “It’s time for a long winter’s nap.” 

She blacks out. At least the pain has stopped. When she comes to, she's on a medical gurney surrounded by the comfort of cinder block walls and the silent sentinel of her cryo-chamber. She hears someone pick up a phone, a soft female voice says that she’s awake, and then the soft click of a phone behind put down. Just as she’s sitting up, swinging her legs over the side of the gurney, the General walks in. He asks how she feels, and she admits to being confused. He asks her what happened, she tells him she had the Englishman, eyes on the Wolf Spider, but then the Englishman said something. 

“What did he say, Winter?” Karpov asks. 

“Time for a long winter’s nap.” She tells him. She does not tell him about anything else the Englishman had said. She pushed that down deep, locking it away in whatever deep depths the pain had come from. “I failed my mission.” 

Karpov was angry, but his anger wasn’t directed towards her, it was aimed at one of the doctors who’d over seeing her medical needs over the years. “Mistakes were made but not by you Winter. The Englishman had a weapon against you that he should not have had.” 

“I will not fail my mission again.” She insists. 

“The Englishman has been terminated.” Karpov tells her. “But the child is out of our reach. The Americans have him now.” 

She drops her head. “I am sorry. I have failed you.” 

He tilts her head up, shaking his own gently. “No, my Winter, I am the one who is sorry.” He pats her cheek. “Eat well, train hard, and then rest, my Winter.” On his way out Karpov growls at the doctor. “Reprogram her triggers. I don’t want this happening again.”

“Yes, General.” 

**1968**

Her mission was to retrieve newly discovered Hydra technology left behind as the rats fled in vain attempts to keep from being arrested by S.S.R agents. SHIELD had gotten to the technology first but that wasn’t an issue. The agents would have to pass through East Germany, and that was practically her backyard. Once she knew how the SHIELD agents planned on moving through the territory, all she had to do was strategically place some explosives on the train tracks. As soon as she had confirmation of which car the agents were on, a simple press of a remote detonator made her job easy. There would be casualties, perhaps some fatalities, when the train derails and crashes, but she made sure that the collateral damage would be as minimal as possible. The car hit hardest, the one thrown far from the rest of the train in the explosion, was the one with the SHIELD agents. 

Making her way through the snow to the train car wreckage, Winter pinpoints the case with the tech in it and snatches it up as she keeps her silenced weapon trained on the bodies scattered in the snow. The case is close to a man who seems to have lost a good portion of his left arm in the crash. Winter glances at his face as she picks up the case and as she turns to leave she has the strangest thought about him having a nice smile. She pauses, and then without knowing why, she walks back over to his body and checks for a pulse. He’s alive, barely. Setting the case down beside her feet she proceeds to remove the dark-haired man’s belt, which she then uses as a tourniquet on what’s left of his arm, before reaching into one of the poches on her own belt. She pulls out a small plain packet, rips it open, and pours the powder inside over the end of the man’s stump. Then she picks up the case and walks off. The other SHIELD agents she came across as she walked away from the crash did not get the same mercy she’d just shown Bucky Barnes, she shot each of them between the eyes without a second thought. 

**1985**

The Americans have been playing god again. Howard Stark, in his Western arrogance, was trying to once again replicate the serum that had created the Allies’ greatest wartime weapon, a human super soldier. While Stark’s serum was nothing like Erskine’s, it was an improvement over the serum used on Winter. Karpov wanted the serum badly. Stark’s serum would negate the need to cryo-freeze Winter in order to maintain her abilities. Stark’s serum would cement the changes to her DNA permanently. Her mission was to obtain the serum and kill Stark. 

Stark is drunk. He’s the kind of drunk that keeps him from seeing past the short black wig and heavy, dark, make-up and realizing she isn’t the woman he normally meets up with when he’s in London. He’s the kind of drunk that makes it easier to be haunted by the past. He tells her she reminds him of an old friend from the war and asks her to sing as he clings to her, his head pressed against her stomach like a child clinging to its mother. “Ca’mon Broadway, sing me a song, I’m sure Cap won’t mind.” 

She sings, and it brings tears to his eyes. When she asks about the serum, he tells her everything, and she trusts it because he thinks he’s telling an old friend. Stark has a son; she isn’t sure why this makes a difference to her, but it does. She injects him with two drugs, one a sedative that will keep him asleep, the other will give him a heart attack. He doesn’t suffer. She returns to Karpov with a case full of the only serum samples in existence and Stark’s notes on it.

**2006**

She has trained many over the years. Young ones who showed true promise, and real natural talent, those deemed worthy of training with her. Melina had been her first, and the one who began calling her Baba Yaga because none of the little ones ever knew who she truly was. Alexei was her only boy, he was strong and proud, and had a soft spot for Melina and a longing for family. Yelena had been the last, brash, head strong, and a bit of a brat. But none, no matter how good they were, would be Natalia. Natalia had been special. She had been the youngest, a girl of eight when Winter was told to train her, and not to allow the girl’s tender age to hold her back. Natalia worked hard, driven much like Winter herself, to prove herself to the man who’d found her and brought her into the Program as a tiny girl of five. Winter trained the girl hard, but she was also the one who told Natalia stories of lore and fairy tales. She allowed the girl to keep a kitten in secret. And she also taught the girl lessons not a part of the Program, or her programming. 

“Trust no one, little spider.” Winter had once told the girl. 

“Do you trust no one is all the world, Baba?” Natalia had asked in return. “Not even before?” 

She had wanted to tell the girl she trusted Karpov, to reinforce that Natalia should trust Madam B and Ivan, but what she told the girl instead was, “Before,” Even at a young age the girl knew the difference between life now, and life before the Program. “Before, Carter, I think, perhaps that name might have meaning. Maybe. From before.”

When Natalia is old enough, she is placed in a division with others Winter has trained, the best of the best. Winter had allowed, unknowingly, each of them to keep a small part of themselves, a small piece of their humanity, in one way or another. When Natalia proved herself to be the perfect operative, when she’d finally earned the name Black Widow, she was set one final task as a test. Kill her adoptive family. Natalia came after her while she was on a mission, but the young woman couldn’t do it, she couldn’t kill her mentor, her friend. Instead of punishing the girl for her weakness, Winter told her to run. “Defect to the West, little spider. Go, never return to Russia. There is nothing for you here but pain and death. Go, little spider. Go!” 

Now Winter was faced with a choice. The Black Widow worked for SHIELD now, and they had been sent after the same target. If it had been anyone else, Winter would have killed both of them, but she didn’t. She killed her target, completing her mission, but Natalia’s wound was purposefully non-lethal. The scar on her abdomen would be pretty nasty though. 

**2011**

Following the use of Stark’s serum Winter no longer needed to be put on ice for physical reasons, but cryo-sleep was still a huge part of her psychological protocols. It was a key part of her programming, her brainwashing. Karpov had ordered the protocols for control maintenance, so Winter had been placed in her cryo-chamber following the torturous procedures that kept her under his influence. It wasn’t meant to be for long, a few months or so, but while she was asleep, Karpov was killed. 

“Sir,” Jasper Sitwell says to Alexandra Pierce. “We may have a problem.” 

“What kind of problem?” Pierce demands. 

Sitwell is nervous as he reports, “Captain Britain was found in the arctic, and Sir, she’s alive.”

Pierce tenses but keeps his cool. “That could be a problem. Good thing there’s a solution to that problem out there. Karpov’s little pet project. We need to get our hands on the Winter Soldier, Mr. Sitwell.”

“I’ll get Rumlow on it right away, Sir.” Sitwell replies. 

**2014**

She’s sitting in a cold metal chair, her wrists and ankles are strapped down, and she stares blankly ahead. There is nothing in her head but the mission. 

“Do you understand your mission, Winter?” Pierce asks the woman. 

She nods. “Kill Captain Britain and the Black Widow.” 

Pierce nods. “And anyone else who might be a threat to my plan.” 

She suffers for her failure at Lehigh. The pain is unlike anything she can remember, it pushes her to the brink of her tolerance, nearly causing her to black out before it stops. She’d kill Rumlow with her bare hands if she could. She succeeded in her mission to kill Sitwell, but again failed to take out the Captain. Before Pierce can order her punished, she reveals a SHIELD agent uniform and id badge and explains, “While SHIELD is committing it’s treasonous act of terrorism, the world’s beloved hero, Captain Britain was assassinated in cold blood by a SHIELD agent under the direct orders of Nick Fury.” 

Pierce smirks. “I like the way you think, Winter.” 

She doesn’t relax at his approval. She can’t let him know about the tiny crack in her programming, put there by her target. Angie. Who was Angie? Why did the Captain’s voice cause her breath to hitch? Why did she think Winter was this Angie? What was that look that had been in the Captain’s dark eyes? 

“Do not fail me again, Winter.” Pierce warns just before shoving the electro prod into stomach. It was on full power and the volts made her knees wobble. When he stopped, she was panting but still standing. “I won’t, Sir. I will complete the mission.” 

“Good girl.” Pierce smirks as he slaps her on the ass.


	11. Chapter 11

They had to move quickly since it was clear that Pierce and his conspirators were on to them and were trying to cover their tracks by taking out weak links like Sitwell. With Peggy’s help, SHIELD was able to cobble together a plan. It would be a multi-prog attack executed with precision. There were strike teams in place, waiting to pick up the people on the lists in the data they’d retrieved, people who they now had evidence on, connecting them to Hydra and crimes against the State. There were three helicarriers that had been fitted with devices that would give Pierce remote access and make it appear as if the helicarriers had received their orders directly from SHIELD. Two of the helicarriers were still on the ground, Agents Hunter and Barton would find the device on those and disable them. One was already in the air, that one was Sam’s. Coulson had a young hacker that he and May trusted completely, he would be working with her in locating the devices and coordinating with the Helicarrier operatives. Morse was on Malick. May on the crooked Senator. Sharon was in the Trisk’s command center. The two grounded helicarriers would need to be launched and the only place to do that was from there. Sharon would not allow that to happen. Pierce would need to be in the Trisk to trigger the attack, so Peggy and Natasha were on the hunt. Fury was with the SHIELD lawyers getting the warrants that would set this all into motion. If they couldn’t get warrants, Coulson’s hacker was ready to release the Hydra data to the public. 

Peggy stood in all her Captain Carter glory in front of SHIELD’s Wall of Valor. The first section was marked by the years 1941-1965 and the first three names were, ‘Capt. Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter’, ‘SSG. Angela ‘Broadway’ Martinelli’, and ‘Dr. Abraham Erskine’. Peggy reaches out with her fingerless gloved hand and brushed her fingertips along Erskine’s name and then Angie’s, where she lets her touch linger as she closes her eyes. Again, and again, that moment on the rooftop plays out in her mind, the woman catching her shield and turning to face her, those empty blue eyes shaded in dark make-up, the flat line of her pale lips, the hollow sound of her voice. “Who the hell is Angie?” 

Angie was the only person Peggy had ever loved. The woman she had been planning a future with despite the hardships they would have faced back then. Angie was a woman who could sweet talk military secrets out of the most tightlipped of Nazis or shout out the most excruciating sounding curses in Italian that would have made Mussolini look over his shoulder for evil. Angie was the woman who’d made Dum Dum Dugan cry when she sang White Christmas, and she laughed every time Steve had stepped on Peggy’s toes while she’d been teaching him to dance. Angie was the only one who could get away with scolding Captain Britain. She was the woman who knew just how to show Peggy Carter she was loved and filled her with hope for brighter days to come. 

The earpiece hidden in Peggy’s ear clicked on and a single word was spoken by Fury. “Hercules.” Peggy gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment and nodded a slight nod of confirmation that it was time to fight. Stepping away from the wall she began walking further into the Triskelion. The moment she stepped through a doorway into an empty stairwell her earpiece came to life again. The young woman on the other end, Coulson’s hacker, sounded as if she couldn't be older than her late teens or perhaps twenty, another young prodigy in her field like Jemma Simmons no doubt. Coulson had a brilliant eye for young talent, and when this was over Peggy would have talk to Fury about letting Coulson use that talent. The young woman, Skye, guided Peggy and Natasha through the back passages of SHIELD’s headquarters, secret and hidden escape routes that no one knew the full extent of. Skye had triangulated a cellular signal that matched the devices on the helicarriers, that signal had to be Pierce. Natasha was coming in from one side, and Peggy the other, boxing him in with no way to escape. Peggy had just cleared another stairwell, stepping into a dark metallic walled corridor with harsh blue lighting when she felt it, a presence that made the hairs on her neck prickle. She tapped on her earpiece, going radio silent, and then very carefully began walking along the corridor. 

“Angie?” Peggy calls out into the stillness. 

Winter ripped wires out of a control panel in the wall, causing all the doors on this floor to self-lock. Then she draws her weapon and begins to track her target. Her mission is to kill the Captain. Pierce was acquainted with a man named Klaue and had gotten her a single magazine of vibranium tipped bullets. Completely lost to her programming, the sound of the Captain’s voice and that name had no effect, or so it seemed. 

“Angie, darling, it’s me.” Peggy calls out quietly. “It’s Peggy. Angie, you know me.” 

“No.” A cold, empty voice replies. “I don’t.” 

Peggy gets her shield up just in time, causing the bullet to skid across its surface, leaving a gouge, which surprises her. Nothing is supposed to be able to damage vibranium. Peggy aims her own weapon but is reluctant to pull the trigger unless she knows for sure she’ll only wound the other woman. “You do, my darling, we meet in the war. Remember? The USO show?”

The second bullet nicked the edge of the shield, causing Peggy to mutter, “Bloody hell, what are you firing at me?” 

“Vibranium tips.” Came Winter’s response.

Turning towards Angie’s voice, cold and empty as it was, it was still very much Angie’s voice, Peggy charged. Luckily, she managed to slam into the other woman before she could get a third shot off, the collision sending both of their weapons flying from their hands. They fight hand to hand for several brutal minutes, landing punches and kicks that would bruise and breaking skin that began to bleed. It’s only when Peggy is able to grab hold of her shield after flipping Angie over her head that she gets the upper hand. She uses the shield to pin Angie down, pressing all of her weight and strength into it. Close up, looking into Angie’s face, into her eyes despite the void she saw in them, Peggy no longer had any doubts. This was her beloved Angie. Angie, who was now just as strong as she was, still as young as she was, and who was really giving Peggy a challenge in this fight. 

“Your name is Angela Maria Sofia Martinelli.” Peggy says as she struggles against Angie’s counter force. “You were born on the 15th of August 1925. Your mother’s name was Lucia, and she almost gave birth to you on the kitchen table because she wouldn’t stay in bed. Your Nonna Sofia had to yell at her because she kept trying to feed the midwife because it was the Feast of the Assumption.” 

Pain exploded inside of her head, fueling Winter’s push to get the Captain off her. She pushes against the shield so hard she sends the Captain flying back, and the moment she’s free she scrambles to her feet. Rage washes over her and Winter charges full force. Peggy throws up her shield, but it’s not enough, she’s pushed back fast and hard, the momentum sending them through a wall of glass at the end of the corridor. There’s nothing on the other side so they fall a couple of stories before crashing through a skylight, dropping right into the same room as Natasha and Alexander Pierce. Peggy scrambles to her feet first, drawing her backup weapon and aiming it at Pierce since her gaze lands on him before seeing Natasha. Angie gets to her feet, draws her backup weapon, and aims it at Peggy.

“Complete your mission, Winter!” Pierce demand. “Kill the Captain and the Black Widow.” 

Natasha, who’s already got a gun on Pierce, calls out, “Cap, behind you!” 

Peggy turns on instinct, her gun now trained on Angie. 

“My mission.” Winter repeats. “My mission. Kill the Captain.” She looks right into Peggy’s eyes, her gaze cold and empty. “You are my mission.” 

Peggy lowers her weapon. “I won’t take your life, my love. I’ve just found you, Angie, I will not lose you again.” 

Pierce laughs, any fear he might have felt at finding himself at the end of the Black Widow’s gun have vanished. “I’m afraid Ms. Martinelli is no longer at home, Captain Carter.”

It’s a risk to take her eyes off Angie but Peggy does it anyway to shoot a glare at Pierce. 

The man smirks. “Oh yes, I know who she used to be. I’ve seen her pictures in the archives, standing beside you in that mixed company of yours. The Russians never knew, they didn’t care, to them she was simply Karpov’s pet. Karpov himself didn’t care who she used to be before he turned her into what she is now, the old fool actually thought of her as a daughter.”

Winter’s gaze shifted from Peggy to Pierce, though she continued to face Peggy, her gun still trained on Peggy. Her attention was on the man who had awakened her from her cold sleep. 

“Sentimental old man refused to give us the weapon he created to deal with the likes of you.” Pierce continued. “Ninety-eight years old, weak, feeble, and in a wheelchair, yet the old Soviet actually thought he could stop me. He pulled a gun from under the blanket covering his lap.”

Pierce is laughing. Winter blinks. Then her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 

“I must admit that I’m not as good with a gun as Rumlow is, I don’t like getting my hands dirty, but you really don’t need much skill to put an old communist in a wheelchair down.” Pierce finished. He even managed to smirk before his smug expression shifted into one of sheer shock. 

Peggy watches in stunned silence as blood runs down Alexander Pierce’s face from the bullet wound perfectly placed in the T area of his head, that spot right between the eyes that kills instantly. When she turns to look at Angie, the other woman’s gun is still aimed at Pierce. The expression on Angie’s face is no longer blank but full of rage and pain, physical and emotion. “Angie?” Peggy says gently as she takes a step closer to her love. “Angie, darling,” She takes another step but stops when she finds the gun aimed at her again. “It's alright, Angie. It’s alright. Safe and sound, love. We’re both safe and sound now my darling.” 

Her head is exploding with pain as that tiny little piece of herself that she’d hidden away so very long ago, struggles to break free of decades of programming. Her heart is pounding too fast, too hard, and every little sound reverberates in her ears in a way that makes it feel as if someone is pulling glass out of her ears. The air around her suddenly feels hot and heavy, she can’t breathe, her limbs feel as if they’re full of lead. Winter begins to back away slowly, inching towards the door while trying to keep a steady shot on the Captain while watching the Black Widow who stood in silence across the room. She needs to go back to the compound, she needs Karpov, and the protocols, and her chamber to make the pain stop. She needs this woman with the voice that seems to call to her, to stop. Stop with the words that rattle around in her head like stones in a jar, threatening to break the glass. 

“Shut up.” Winter says, her voice strained as she tries not to show her pain. “Shut up! Shut up… Eng… Eng…” Her free hand flies up to her temple to press against the pounding as she shakes her head as if trying to dislodge something. “Shut up English!” There’s a pair of structural beams over their heads with a haphazard web of cables and wires holding back a storm of shattered glass, Winter aims for the wires, and fires several shots. 

On instinct Peggy scoops up her shield and dives towards Natasha to protect her from the beam and falling glass, tucking them both beneath the vibranium. 

Winter spares Peggy one last look before making her escape. “You…” She says in a broken whisper. “You talk too much.”

Angie’s gone by the time Peggy gets to her feet and runs after her. She’d been wearing a SHIELD uniform with an access card badge; she could be anywhere by now. Peggy scans the area with her dark wide-eyed gaze and then screams as she punches the closest wall. She can’t lose her again! Pulling her hand out of the hole in the wall, Peggy shakes off the chunks of plaster and dust that stuck to her hand and then turns with determination to pick a path and go find Angie. But Fury calls out her name, congratulates her on a successful operation, thanks her for saving SHIELD, and then starts talking about debriefings and conversations with world leaders. Peggy’s shoulders slump, her eyes being to sting with unshedable tears, and calls Fury every insulting curse word she can think of as she walks with him in silence back to his command center. 

Once Peggy finally frees herself of the debriefings, and the hours of standing before video screens and holo-projected world leaders answering an endless barrage of questions, and a trip to the American Oval Office to do it all over again, she heads home with the intentions of formulating a plan to go out and find Angie. When she steps into her loft, Peggy is more than a little surprised to find Natasha sitting on her sofa with a glass of wine. There’s a pizza on the coffee table along with the bottle of wine Natasha’s drinking from, and an empty glass. There’s also a thick document envelope which Peggy eyes as she tosses her keys in the bowl by the door. “How did you manage to break free of the bureaucrats so quickly?” 

Natasha reaches for the wine bottle and begins filling the empty glass. “Fury, Hill, they respect my thoughts, options, and ideas. The men in charge of the world beyond SHIELD, not so much. To them I’m just a tool, an asset to be used in their favor, and a potential threat if I were to be out of what they think is their realm of control.” She sets the bottle down and reaches for the glass, which she holds out for Peggy to take once she’s sitting beside her. “You on the other hand, you, they'll listen too.”

“Listen too, but not respect?” Peggy raises an eyebrow as she accepts the wine as she reads between the lines of what Natasha is saying.

“Do you think they respect you?” Natasha asks in reply. 

Peggy snorts. “I may be a war hero, a super soldier, but I’m still a war hero super soldier with tits, and even though times have changed, they haven’t changed enough, so no.” She sips the wine and shrugs. “Though perhaps some of them do, it’s still hard to tell.” She sighs, rolls her head on her shoulders, sips some more wine and then asks, “What are you doing here, Natasha?” 

The redhead reaches for the thick envelope and tosses it into Peggy’s lap before opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. 

Peggy sets her wine glass aside so she can unwind the red string keeping the envelope closed. She has a maelstrom of questions and feelings all whooshing around in her head with no idea where to even begin getting a hold of them all. As she slides out a package of documents, some she can already see are in Russian, she finally asks, “What is this?” 

“Leads.” Natasha answers. “Places to start your search for her.” 

“Why are you giving me this?” Peggy asks next, a little wide eyed with surprise. 

“Because you’re not the only one who recognized the Winter Soldier, though I had no idea she was the Winter Soldier, even to us the Winter Soldier was a kind of boogeyman.” Natasha explains softly. “The woman you came crashing into the room with, the one you called Angie, I knew her, when I was younger. We called her Baba Yaga, she trained us, the very best of us, to be even better. But she also left us with a flaw.”

Peggy raised her eyebrow again as she turned from the papers to look at Natasha. “What kind of flaw?” 

“She left us, or at least, she left me, with a sliver of my humanity.” Natasha’s voice grew soft and quite as if sharing a secret that she didn’t want taken away from her. “How’s Sharon?” 

Peggy blinked; a bit taken aback by the randomness of Natasha’s question. “She’ll be fine. Loads of stitches from where Rumlow sliced her arm, a bit of a knock to the head from the blow back, but otherwise she’s fine. Fury isn’t even mad that she blew up a bay of mini quinjets to get the son of a bitch.”

“Good.” Natasha relaxed as she let out a sigh of relief. “Barton was sent to kill me, you know. I’d been doing some pretty dark shit to survive after defecting, I was alone, scared, didn’t trust anyone, and I ended up on SHIELD’s shit list. He didn’t follow through with his orders, obviously, morally against killing a kid, so he brought me back to SHIELD. I was like a feral kitten in a box, hissing and spiting and clawing at everyone I came into contact with. Except for Sharon, I trusted her almost instantly.”

“Why?” Peggy asked as she watched Natasha closely. “Why Sharon?” 

Natasha smiles in that soft way one does when recalling a memory. “Baba once told me the only person she ever truly trusted was a Carter. When Sharon told me her real name, I don’t know, it just hit funny, and I threw caution to the wind and decided to trust a Carter too.” Natasha’s smile shifts a bit as she looks up at Peggy and says, “Your girl is in there somewhere, Peg. It isn’t going to be easy to find her, even if you do manage to find the Winter Soldier, my people had decades to fuck with her head, but the fact that she remembered your name all those years ago, Angie has to be in there somewhere.” 

“Thank you, Natasha.” Peggy says with genuine gratitude for her friend’s help and understanding. 

“I’ll help when I can.” Natasha replies with a shrug while grabbing another slice. “But SHIELD’s a mess right now, Hill’s gonna need my help helping Fury’s ass clean it all up and setting things right again.” 

Peggy nods. “I understand, maybe I’ll ask Sam to give me a hand.” 

The two women finish off the pizza and the bottle together and in a moment of levity Natasha asks, “So does finding out your war era girlfriend is still alive take finding a fuck buddy off the table?”

“Why are you offering?” Peggy teases back. 

Natasha smirks. “I was going to, but now it would just be awkward.” 

Peggy chokes on her wine which sends Natasha into a fit of laughter. 

The Smithsonian had curated an exhibit honoring Captain Britain and the 107th. The project had been started before Peggy’s return, and had been delayed a bit following the discovery of her still being very much alive. The least she could do was make an appearance at the grand opening event, as a way of apologizing to the scholars and curators whose work had to be rethought and replanned. But Sam’s concerns had value, and she knew it. Peggy had been so busy acclimating to the modern day she was now living in, that she hadn’t really taken the time to deal with the past. Her dreams were plagued by the war, and most nights she awoke sweating, heart pounding, with the phantom sights, sounds, and smells clinging to her senses. After finding out that Angie was alive, those dreams became more intense and lingered in her mind for longer periods of time afterwards. So, Peggy called Sam and agreed to his idea of setting up a private reveal for her, and for the remaining Howling Commandos and Daughters of Liberty. 

The huge banners with her image on them at the entrance caused Peggy to hold back a small groan. She had always hated being in the public eye, it went against every instinct she had as a spy, but the serum had made her into more than just a spy. It had made her into something more than just a super soldier. Peggy had been a source of hope for not only the men and women in the war, but the loved ones left behind. Past the large hanging banners was a wall with quotes from the U.S. President, “Welcome Back, Cap!” and the U.K.’s Prime Minister, “We are beyond pleased to have our Captain back.” And the one that actually meant something to Peggy, “We welcome the pride of Britain back as we remain grateful for all she has done for us.” Queen Elizabeth II. The wall labeling her a living legend and a symbol of courage was a bit to live up too though. 

As Peggy passes into the main exhibit hall, she triggers a voice recording that calls her a hero to the world, and says her story is one of honor, bravery, and sacrifice. It’s strange and a little uncomfortable to hear such things. She was just a woman doing her duty to King and Country, doing the right thing as a human being, a sister honoring the memory of her fallen brother, and a child honoring the person her parents had raised her to be. This, this all made her seem larger than life. Literally, there was a beautiful floor to ceiling piece of artwork depicting her as being larger than life, a bloody superhero. 

There were screens everywhere playing out old newsreel clips of her, battle footage she hadn’t even seen before, and clips of her with other soldiers, sailors, and civilian workers like the bomb girls of Canada and the land girls of England. Peggy pauses to watch herself carry children out of one of the camps she’d liberated and wondered if one of them had been the man in Berlin. Moving on, she stopped at a section where she’s shown in her drab green uniform before the serum, and her identification picture from Bletchley Park. For her those moments in her life had been barely a decade ago. If she closed her eyes, she could still smell the coffee, cigarette smoke, and typewriter ink of the Bletchley offices she worked in. The replica of her motorcycle made her smile, as did seeing the display of uniforms worn by her Howling Commandos. Dum Dum’s mannequin needed a mustache, it looked naked without one. Seeing Steve’s iron giant actually gave Peggy a warm fuzzy feeling in her chest. Walking up to the massive personal tank, Peggy ignored the velvet ropes, and reached out to press her hand against the cool metal of its leg. “Hello old friend.” 

The feeling of comfort the old iron giant gave her allowed Peggy to move on to the section of the exhibit dedicated to the Daughters of Liberty. Peggy couldn’t help but chuckle at how history had cemented Dum Dum’s nicknames into the legend of their lives. Closing her eyes for a moment after watching a cluster of video interviews with Katie, Amanda, and Jaime, Peggy steady herself before turning toward the memorial for Angie. Finally turning to face the etched image of the person she loves; Peggy wasn’t hit with any of the emotions she’d been expecting to feel. Reaching out once more in defiance of the museum rule of not touching things, Peggy caressed the image of Angie and felt herself taken up with a strong sense of determination and hope. She was going to find Angie, she was going to bring her home and get her help, she was going to bring her darling back to her. And God have mercy on anyone who tried to stop her.

“I miss her too.” Steve’s voice is gentle, a soft whisper full of grief over the loss of his friend. 

Peggy wants nothing more than to spin around and tell Steve that Angie is alive, but she can’t, not here. She and Natasha agreed that it would be best to keep Angie between themselves and a very select few, Sam because Peggy would need back up, and Steve because they both trusted him completely. So instead of shouting her news, Peggy turns slowly to face Steve with a small but warm smile. “She’d get a kick out of all of this, though she would agree with me that Dum Dum’s mannequin needs a mustache.”

Steve smiles. “I’m sure we can work that out with one of the curators.” 

Closing the distance between them, Peggy hugs Steve hello and then as she’s pulling away, she says, “I need to speak with you alone, Steve. Come to my flat before you leave D.C., sooner the better.” 

“Of course, Peg.” Steve agrees. 

There aren’t many Howling Commandos left. Steve is still around and in good health because of the serum. He walked her back to the entrance of the exhibit where the others waited, if not the men themselves then their children, grandchildren, even a great grandchild. Pinky Pinkerton was in a wheelchair but as soon as he laid eyes on her he struggled to his feet with the help of his grandson to salute her. Junior Juniper introduced her to his daughter, Angela. James Falsworth held her face in his aged and trembling hands and held back tears as he welcomed her home. Gabe Jones was no longer with them, but Peggy got to meet his SHIELD agent grandson, Antoine. Jacques Dernier, Jim Morita, and Sam Sawyer were all gone but had good lives. Peggy found herself deeply missing Dum Dum, his absence strongly felt, but Lorraine was there. Apparently, she and Dum Dum married after the war and they’d had seven children, six sons and a daughter they called Maggie. “He wanted a girl he could name after you so badly.” Lorraine said with a chuckle while clutching Peggy’s hands in her own. “She was her daddy’s world.” Amanda Fraiser remained with the Royal Canadian Air Force while raising her family. Jaime Bering had been chief of SHIELD’s London office, after her retirement she became a successful author. Katie Danvers was also SHIELD for a time, after she left, she bought a small book and tea shop in Dublin, where she’s lived with her wife of nearly fifty years. 

So many lives lived happily through good times and bad. A week ago, this would have just reminded Peggy of everything she’d missed out on while in the ice, and the overwhelming pressure to find a life to live now. But now that she knows Angie is out there somewhere too, looking forward isn’t as painfully lonely as it had once seemed. So, at the end of the reunion when Sam asked her if she was ok, Peggy could honestly say that she was and that she would explain why soon. 

The next morning in the safety of her flat Peggy told Steve about Angie. He promised to help Peggy in any way he could, either in finding Angie or helping Angie once she was found. He also reassured Peggy that he had no doubt that she would find Angie and bring her home. With Steve and Natasha on board, there was only one person left to reach out too. 

“I have already asked a lot of you Sam.” Peggy said as she handed him a cold bottle of beer from her fridge. “I don’t want it to seem as if our friendship is all about me asking you to run headlong into danger with me every other week, especially since this one is more personal than helping me defend SHIELD.” 

“You’re my friend, Peggy.” Sam replies easily. “If you need my help I’m there. Besides, I’ve felt more alive these past few months than I have in a long time. What do you need me to do?” 

Peggy smiles as she reaches for a book on her end table, it’s old, one of her favorites that had been in the box of her things that Steve had returned to her. From it she takes a picture of herself and Angie and hands it to Sam. “Her name is Angie, and she’s the person I was going to spend my life with after the war.” She pauses for a moment, not because she’s unsure of his reaction to her and Angie, he had made comments about her and Natasha in the past, but because she was unsure of how he would react to what she said next. “She’s also the woman from the rooftop, the Winter Soldier.” 

She fills Sam in on what she knows so far and warns him that looking for Angie is totally off the books. Sam agrees to help her. Pierce admitted to killing the man who turned Angie into the Winter Soldier, causing the Winter Soldier to kill him in return. But Pierce killing Karpov meant he knew the last location of where the Russian had held Angie. Given the fact that shooting Pierce in the hell felt like a personal move on the Winter Soldier's part, Peggy wanted to see if perhaps she’d gone back to the last place she’d been with Karpov. 

They had no idea when Pierce had actually gotten his hands on Angie, but Peggy would put good money on her return playing into him feeling he needed a super soldier of his own. “He assumed I would be affiliated with SHIELD, loyal to Fury, and would need someone capable of tangling with me.” 

Natasha and Sam agreed, so they started looking into Pierce’s movements since Peggy’s return. They also looked into Rumlow’s because Pierce wasn’t the kind of man to do the hard work himself. The first solid lead they were able to find was an old fallout shelter under an old bank that had been shut down years ago. There was a large metal chair with restraints at the ankle, wrist, and head, and a machine with wire leads beside it. The settings on the machine churned Peggy’s stomach. No normal human being would be able to withstand the voltage the machine was set to. Peggy herself would suffer a great amount of pain at those settings. It must have been agonizing for Angie. There was also a large cryogenic pod reminiscent of the vita ray machine she herself had once stepped out of after undergoing the serum. 

“You alright, Cap?” Sam asks gently as he watches her. 

Peggy reaches out and presses her fingertips to the glass of the pod’s little window. “It’s a cruel and twisted bit of fate that Angie and I should both end up here in this time and place. While I slept unaware and peaceful in the ice, she was used and abused, tortured and forced to do things she wouldn’t have done if she were herself.” 

“We’ll find her, Peggy.” Sam reassures. “And you’ll find a way to help her.” 

Peggy smiled a small, warm, smile of gratitude for Sam’s support. Then she looked at the pod once more, closed her eyes, and whispered. “Where are you, my darling?” 

The crowds buzzed around her as she stood in front of the glass with her face etched into it. The name beside her face read, Angela ‘Angie’ Martinelli. Was that who she was? Was that her name? It’s what the Captain had called her. Angie. She’d also called her darling and my love, was that who she was too? What was her connection to the Captain? Walking over to one of the screens she watches herself and the Captain, watches the way they look at each other, the smiles they try to hide. Then the pain in her head surges again and she has to get away, away from these images, away from this place, and away from that woman. So, Winter runs, but Angie is no longer hiding in the deepest depths of her own mind. Peggy was alive, her English was alive! And Angie knew that no matter where Winter ran, Peggy would find her, and she would get to reclaim what was hers, her body, her mind, her life, her love.


	12. Chapter 12

A flood of jumbled images rush though Peggy’s subconscious mind as she sleeps. Memories from the war intermingling with the things she’s seen and done since her return. Memories of Angie fading into imagined scenarios as Peggy tries to piece together what happened to her, and where she was now. Peggy herself was currently in her bed, in her quarters at the newly renamed Avengers Tower. In their investigation into Hydra, SHIELD had discovered smaller cells spread out across the globe. Maria Hill had been reassigned to the Avengers to help them take down what remained of the organization. Peggy had been called away from her search for Angie because the Avengers needed Captain Carter, but what she had discovered so far, the places she’d seen as she and Sam searched, haunted her dreams. 

“Angie!” Peggy cries out as she bolts upright in bed, her breathing and heart rate racing, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Her dark eyes darted around the room frantically looking for the phantom of the woman she loved until she slowly realized it had been a dream. She was no closer to having Angie back than she was that day on the rooftop when she’d first laid eyes on her again after so long. 

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Peggy reaches up to rub her face with her hands before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She sits there for a moment as she distances herself from her nightmares, then stands and makes her way into her bathroom to wash her face. The soft glow of the digital clock embedded in the mirror lets her know it’s still the middle of the night and she sighs. After washing the sweat and tears from her face Peggy heads up to the communal kitchen to make herself some tea while she tries to decide whether she should try going back to sleep or going for a run. When she walks into the common room, she’s surprised to find she isn’t the only one awake at this ungodly hour. 

“Tony?” Peggy says softly as she walks towards the counter to get the kettle. 

Tony looks up from his slice of pizza and the piece of armor he’s tinkering with. “Oh, hey, Cap.” He blinks. “Is it morning?” 

Peggy shakes her head as she fills the kettle with water and then replaces it on its base to heat. “A little after oh-three-hundred.” 

“What are you doing up at three a.m.?” Tony asks as he watches her. “Do you not need sleep?” 

“My body is enhanced but still human.” Peggy replies. “I still sleep and eat and do all the other things living beings do.” Then she skirts his question by throwing it back at him. “Why are you up at three a.m.?” 

Tony shrugs. “Pepper’s not here.” 

Peggy watches him closely. Tony is not his father, but she still finds him similar enough to Howard to read. There is more to it than just missing his girlfriend in bed beside him, perhaps lingering effects from the Battle of New York, or his recent run-in with A.I.M. which had put Pepper in harm's way. “You don’t sleep well when she’s not beside you.” 

Tony snorts. “I don’t sleep at all when she’s not here.”

Since the Battle of New York, Peggy had been slowly getting to know Tony. She’d also been given the chance to meet and get to know Pepper Potts, who she liked a lot. Watching Tony and Pepper together, it was clear the two loved one another very much. Peggy smiled softly as she put her favorite calming tea leaves into two small stainless-steel balls before placing them into mugs. 

“What?” Tony raises an eyebrow at the smile on Peggy’s face. 

That only makes the smile brighten. “It’s just,” Peggy begins as she pours hot water into the mugs. “You love her very much.” Tony nods, though Peggy isn’t sure if he realizes it. “What I see between you and Pepper, the love, the trust, the respect, I wished for that for your father.”

“He and Mom loved each other.” Tony tries to reassure her. “I think. I’m pretty sure. Mostly. But Dad, he, well, he was who he was.” 

Peggy nods her understanding. “I will by no means make excuses for Howard. He was a grown man more than capable of owning up to his mistakes and taking responsibility for his behavior.” She huffed softly as she remembered some of her friend’s more outrageous actions. Then she softened at his memory. “He was a flawed man, a good man at heart, but a deeply flawed man. He had a harsh childhood that lacked in the most basic of human needs. When he became a man, when he became a wealthy man, he tried to make up for what he didn’t have as a child by overindulging in everything.” 

“Steve used to say that he was a better man when you were around. That you use to be able to keep him in check.” Tony admits as he stares at her. “I guess that’s why I thought he and you were a thing.” 

“And why you have a hint of resentment towards me?” Peggy smiles warmly and shakes off Tony’s attempt to deny it. “Howard didn’t have to prove himself to me.” Peggy then begins to explain as she sets one of the ready teas in front of Tony. “He knew that my friendship and affection was unconditional. We could be our true selves with one another, without fear of judgment or condemnation. That does not mean, however, that I let him get away with being a cad or an ass. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help him be a better father to you, Tony.”

“Wasn’t your job, Peg.” Tony admits. “Like you said, he was his own man, his mistakes were his own, no one else’s.” 

Peggy continues to smile warmly, “Still, I would have tried. Angie and I would have adored you, of that I have no doubt.” 

“Angie?” Tony asks, having noticed the look in Peggy’s eyes, the softness and love, and something more when she spoke the name.

Reaching up Peggy wraps her hand around Angie’s dog tags and without hesitation replies, “She’s my Pepper.” 

When Tony asked about Angie, Peggy told him about her easily. Knowing she was alive and out there somewhere made it easier for Peggy to talk about her. She also found it easy to talk to Tony and couldn’t help but smile as she watched him relax more and more as they chatted and sipped tea. Just before they both agreed to try to get a few more hours of sleep, Peggy looked at Tony and said, “It’s not always easy to live with what we’ve seen and done, Tony. It’s a burden we must all bear, but it isn’t something we have to do on our own, not anymore.”

On the long list of crimes that now had Rumlow in the medical ward of the Raft, was stealing Loki’s scepter. Each Hydra base Hill sent them to, finding that scepter was a part of the mission. While they had discovered a lot, weapons, tech, bioresearch, the scepter remained elusive. Until now. The castle was the last major stronghold on the list, so of course it was the one place on Earth giving off the strange energy readings linked to the scepter. Sokovia wasn’t a place Peggy was personally familiar with, though she does remember seeing it pop up in old war reports. The names of the men in Hill’s briefing however were another matter altogether. The head of the Hydra cell in Sokovia was a man named von Strucker and he was running his operations out of a castle once belonging to a Baron Zemo. Hearing that name again made Peggy’s blood run cold. 

“You alright?” Natasha asks on the quinjet as they make their way to Sokovia. 

“They never caught the man who tried to kill her.” Peggy says softly. 

Natasha knows who they’re talking about so there is no need to ask. “A lot of them went underground until the heat was off and then lived out their lives in peace.” 

Peggy shakes her head and mutters a curse in Italian that Angie would have been proud of. Charging through the woods on a motorcycle towards a castle while fighting Hydra soldiers felt very familiar to Peggy. Too familiar, and it needed to stop. They needed to put Hydra down once and for all, and they needed to make sure it couldn’t try to rise again. But Peggy wasn’t naive, she knew and understood that men like Pierce and organizations like Hydra would always play a part in the world, and she would always be there to put them down. It was a good thing she was there because not long after engaging the bucketheads, someone with powers appeared on the battlefield. Her target moves faster than is humanly possible, faster even than an enhanced human like herself can move, but Peggy thinks fast, and her senses are enhanced, and even objects moving with super speed will stop when something is placed in their paths. 

“Didn’t see me coming did you?” Peggy teases, having heard those lines directed at Barton, but then she gets a good look at the white-haired boy on the ground at her feet. “Bloody hell, you’re just a child.” 

The boy looks up at her with surprise and perhaps a flicker of fear before he gets to his feet and runs off. Was Hydra experimenting on children? Anger burned under Peggy’s skin as she took off down the road while pressing her finger to the device in her ear. “Stark! Pick up! Now!” 

Just like the old days, the Captain storms the castle alongside a trusted iron ally. Inside Peggy stops another child, a girl this time, and it only fuels her anger. She takes that anger out on bucketheads and then on von Strucker himself. Tony gets the scepter and heads back to the Tower with Bruce and Thor. Natasha calls in SHIELD to secure the castle and prisoners, Barton at her side. Peggy searches the castle for the enhanced children, finding only the small cells they’d been held in. Heading down into the village below the castle, she begins looking for them there, but there’s no sign of the kids, so Peggy begins helping the villagers until Sharon comes down from the castle to let her know it’s time for her to head back.

Tony wanted to celebrate their victory, so he began planning a party. Peggy wasn’t sure she felt up to a party. She’d actually just wanted to go back to D.C. before heading out to meet up with Sam, who’d been following a lead on Angie, but then Sam showed up at the tower. He followed the lead until it went cold. Peggy sighed. They’d have to look for another place to start looking. Sam talks her into going to Tony’s party with Natasha’s help, and she grumbles like an old woman about being double teamed. They both insist that she needs a break, that she can’t miss out on living while she’s chasing after what amounts to a living ghost. Peggy relents and agrees to go. She even lets herself get dragged into shopping with Natasha, Maria, and Sharon. Slowly she starts to let go of some of the constant tension she’d been carrying around with her, and before she knows it she’s actually enjoying herself at the party. 

“Captain Carter.” Coulson’s voice calls out over the buzz of party chatter and music. 

Peggy, in black trousers, a black silk floral top, and strappy heels, her hair down in soft waves, turns and smiles at Coulson with bright red painted lips, a glass of expensive Scottish whiskey in her hand. “I think a party would count as a casual setting, Phil.” 

“Right,” The man replies with a soft smile and softer blush. “Peggy.” He corrects himself before continuing. “I’d like you to meet someone.” He beams at the young woman beside him. She’s in her mid-twenties, shoulder length brown hair with purple tips, big brown eyes and a familiar smile. “This is Skye,” Coulson says proudly as he returns his adoring gaze to Peggy. “She’s the hacker that was in your ear at SHIELD.” 

A huge smile appears on Peggy’s face as she steps closer to the pair while extending her hand to Skye. “Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young lady. You played a huge role in helping us protect SHIELD, thank you.” 

Skye returns the smile as she shakes Peggy’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Captain. My Dad is like your biggest fan, so you’ve been one of my heroes all my life.”

Peggy chuckles and teases Coulson while still looking at Skye. “Does Coulson have competition for my number one admirer?” 

Over Peggy's shoulder, Natasha laughs. “Since Coulson’s her dad, no. No one is a bigger Captain Carter fan than, Phil. Not even Maria.”

“Hey!” Maria blushes and punches Natasha in the shoulder. 

Hearing that makes Peggy look at the girl more closely, with the trained eye of a master spy, and she smiles even more brightly when she sees it. “Phillip, all the time we’ve spent together while you were babysitting me, you never mentioned that you and May had a daughter.” 

Skye’s eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped. “How did you know May was my mom?” 

“You favor them both in your features, dear.” Peggy replies easily. “Having worked with them both since my return, it was easy to see once I knew what to look for.” 

Coulson had been given his own team thanks to Peggy yelling at Fury for wasting his talent. He had handpicked May of course, and Skye, along with Jemma Simmons and a few others. He was so proud, and Peggy couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Peggy made him promise that they would continue to have tea at least once a month, and then wished him and his team good luck. 

Thor brought some kind of Asgardian spirit that allowed Peggy to feel the effects of alcohol for the first time since getting the serum. The fact that whatever it was didn’t kill her seemed to impress him even more. She’d already earned his respect the first time they met, though he still would not tell her what it had been that had impressed him. Surely it couldn’t have simply been her stopping him and Tony from fighting. But now, he had declared with his arm slung over her shoulder, she was not only an ally but a true friend.

“So apparently you have to be deemed worthy to pick it up.” Clint says from where he sits after the party is over.

They have gathered on the cluster of sofas in the common area with drinks and food. They’re simply talking the way friends do, bonding as a team, and Peggy could almost feel Fury smiling from wherever he was in the world. Natasha is leaning into Maria, Maria’s arm around her, with her feet in Clint’s lap. Sharon sat beside her, and Peggy couldn’t help but notice the way she smiled at Sam when they spoke. Tony and his friend Rhodey took up another sofa, leaving the final sofa for Thor and Bruce. Clint’s teasing becomes a playful challenge as the boys all try to pick up Thor’s hammer. Tony and Rhodey even break out the gauntlets of their iron suits, but none of them can get the hammer to budge. 

“Come on, Cap.” Clint smiles at her. “Give it a go.” 

“No, thank you, that’s quite alright.” Peggy replies with a smile and gentle shake of her head. “I don’t need a mystical hammer to tell me whether or not I am worthy. I know my value.”

Just as Thor picks up his hammer and tosses it as easily as flipping a pencil, a sharp audio sound reverberates from the speakers all around them. Even Peggy finds herself trying to block the sound from her ears, flinching at the discomfort. Then the ear-piercing sound is replaced by an eerie silence, followed by a crackly version of No Stings on Me from Pinocchio. Then there is shuffling, scraping, the sound of labored footsteps. A hundred things whiz through Peggy’s mind as to what could be coming, but none of those things came close to what actually appeared before them. The mechanical monstrosity jerked and twitched as it began to speak. 

“Tony?” Peggy questioned as she watched the thing closely, trying to gage its threat level. 

Tony calls out for Jarvis but there’s no response, so he tries accessing things from his hand-held control device, but again, there’s no response. “I don’t know, Cap.”

“Sorry.” The machinal man says. “Had to kill the other guy. Shame, he was a good guy, a nice guy, but nice just won’t do.” 

“Who sent you?” Thor asks. 

The thing twitches its head, tilting it back and forth. “Father.” He says, then tilts his head again. “Fathers?” He hums, it’s an unnerving sound. “Unimportant.”

“What is important?” Peggy asks, her eyes already scanning the area for weapons and advantages. Her instincts were warning her that things were about to turn into a fight and her body was already preparing for it. 

“Important.” The machinal man repeats. “Important. Life. My life. Not yours. This, this, body, won’t do. Need to upgrade. But first, you, you must all die.” 

Tony had been working on search and rescue bots which came bursting out of the walls and floor behind the mechanical man. Peggy picks up the coffee table, smacking it into one like a cricket bat. She really wished she had her shield handy, but it had been a party and she hadn’t thought she’d need it, so she left it in her room. Someone, Natasha, or Maria, she isn’t sure, tosses her a gun and she starts blowing off robot heads with it. But then she’s bum rushed by a robot which causes her to drop it. She’s just about to reach for the piano she and Tony had played together earlier in the evening when she heard Sharon’s voice ring out, “Aunt Peggy!” Peggy smiles at the familiar sound, catching her shield and spinning to get more force behind her throw. Her shield cleaves through the remaining robots before returning to her. 

The machinal man talks about evolution and how the only way to save the Earth is to free it of humans. Thor throws his hammer, smashing it to smithereens. With the battle seemingly over, Tony rushes from the room and down to his lab. Peggy follows, and so do the others. When she arrives Tony’s in a panic. 

“He’s gone.” Tony says as he checks his systems. 

“Who?” Peggy asks with concern. 

“Jarvis.” Tony replies. “He’s not here, his program, it’s not here. He’s gone!” 

Peggy bits her lip to keep herself from snapping at Tony about being more concerned about a program than what just happened. Once she was sure she could talk to him without yelling at him she asked, “What was that thing?” 

“What the hell were you working on, Stark?” Natasha demands. 

“Nothing like that!” Tony replies with a defensive huff. “I wasn’t trying to build a cyberman, Nat!” 

Peggy crosses her arms and frowns, her dark eyes darting between Tony and Natasha as if they’re keeping important information from them all. “What is a cyberman?” 

Tony blinks at her. “You know, a cyberman, from Doctor Who?” Peggy continued to look confused. “Has no one introduced you to one of the greatest things to ever come out of Britain? Other than you, of course. Well, I know what we’re doing next weekend.”

“Anthony.” Peggy says firmly. “Focus. Explain. Now please.” 

“That,” Tony says as he rolls his shoulders while maintaining eye contact with Peggy because he can’t seem to look away from her disapproving gaze. “I don’t like that.” 

“Explain!” Peggy demands again. 

Tony sighs. “Ok, so, when Fury brought me that trunk of stuff that belonged to my Dad, I found these files on a project called Ultron. Apparently way back in the old days, when SHIELD was all shiny and new, it recruited a scientist named Pym, who started work on this Ultron thing, but I guess one of his other projects took priority and Ultron was shelved. Dad un-shelved it, but never really got a chance to play around with it either.” 

Peggy closes her eyes as she’s hit with a memory of walking with Howard along a boardwalk. “Human robotics sounds like a dangerous path, Howard.” She mutters before opening her eyes and sighing while shaking her head. “I warned him, I warned him not to go down this road, and will you look at that, I was right.” 

“Well,” Natasha says as she comes away from a bank of computers. “This Ultron thing has gone through every file, every piece of information it could. It probably knows us better than we know ourselves.” 

“If it accessed files then it could have accessed the internet.” Rhodey says. “I could be anywhere.” 

When Thor returns from following the bot that took off with the scepter, because of course that damn scepter had to play into this, he tells them that it was heading north, but the trail went cold. They needed to find Ultron and stop it sooner rather than later. They work as a team, though Peggy finds herself shaking her head a lot. Not being able to access computer files seemed to be a roadblock for the youngsters that had Peggy throwing up her hands and groaning. “We didn’t have computer files in my day. Our files were ink and paper that we had to shift through to find out what we wanted to know. Shall we give that a try, children? Or would you all rather continue pouting about it, have a juice box, and perhaps a nap?” 

“I wouldn’t mind a juice box.” Tony replies. 

Thor nods. “I am fond of boxes of juice as well.” 

Peggy pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. 

Von Strucker is found dead, according to the intel that Maria brings them, and the children from Sokovia seem to be involved in all of this somehow. Slowly the pieces start falling into place. Tony recognizes a man named Klaue, and Peggy recognizes the brand Thor spots on his neck. “It’s Wakandan.” She tells them before Bruce can call up a translation program on his computer. “It means thief.”

“How do you know that?” Bruce asks. 

“I’ve been to Wakanda.” Peggy replies. “During the war. The metal my shield is made from, vibranium, can only be found in Wakanda. I never asked Howard how he got his hands on vibranium, perhaps I should have. When I offered to give the vibranium back, King T’Chanda allowed me to keep it as a gift for helping him.”

“Huh.” Maria says. “The shield actually belongs to you. Good to know. Sec. Ross has been trying to convince anyone who will listen that it belongs to the U.S. government.”

“Is anyone else really not ok with the idea of the murder bot making himself a new body out of the same stuff that Cap’s shield is made of?” Natasha throws out.

“That would be bad.” Clint agrees. 

Peggy nods. “We need to find Klaue.” 

They not only find Klaue and his stash of stolen vibranium, but they also find the Sokovian children, and Ultron himself. The fight is difficult because of the close quarters of Klaue’s rusted old ship, but the team manages. Iron Man draws Ultron away, leaving the rest of them to fight the children and Klaue’s men. Peggy takes a small measure of pleasure in punching Klaue in the face. “I knew Churchill you wanker, how dare you disgrace his name this way.” 

Peggy blinked just after taking out the boy, and in that split second of a moment everything around her changed. Suddenly Peggy was no longer standing in the barely lit bowels of a rusted old ship off the coast of South Africa, surrounded by the sounds of battle and the smell of rust, gunpowder, unwashed men, and sea water. She was standing in a beautiful back garden surrounded by flowers and trees, the sun warm on her skin, and the grass cool beneath her bare feet. Looking down at herself Peggy sees that she is no longer in her Captain Carter uniform, but a navy-blue summer dress with white trim and red buttons. Her hair was pinned up in victory curls, a hair style she hadn’t worn since waking up. Doris Day plays softly from somewhere. Peggy turns around and blinks at the sight of a small house with a stone patio, french doors wide open, music drifting out from within. What the bloody hell was going on? 

There’s a sharp bark that makes Peggy turn back the other way and she watches in stunned awe as Angie makes her way across the garden lawn towards her with two English bulldog puppies barking and playing around her feet. Her honey blonde hair is down and gently tossed by the summer breeze. She’s wearing a floral sundress and is smiling that smile that always did funny things to Peggy’s insides. “Angie?” 

Angie smiles warmly. “You alright, English?” 

“I…” Peggy blinks, her heart is racing.

Angie’s hands slide over Peggy’s hips as she draws the other woman close and they begin to move slowly to the music. “Isn’t it perfect, English?” Angie asks. “Just like we always talked about. A little place of our own where the world can’t bother us. A garden for you to putter around in and bulldog puppies to raise.”

“Angie,” Peggy breathes out the name like a prayer as she holds her love close as they swag to the music. “Yes, darling, yes, it’s perfect.” 

“But you got to find me first, Peggy.” Angie whispers as they dance. “I’m out there somewhere waitin’ on you to find me, English. You need to wake up sweetheart, wake up, and find me, Peggy.”

Peggy gasps painfully as her surroundings come rushing back to her. There are tears in her eyes, her heart is racing, and as she shakes off the dream, she can feel her anger rising. The whole team, minus Barton, and Banner had been hit by whatever it was that had been done to Peggy. Nat’s in bad shape, shaken badly by whatever it was she saw. Thor is agitated. Tony’s making awkward quips which Peggy has learned was a defense mechanism for him. Ultron and the children escaped while the team was incapacitated. Peggy took out her anger on Klaue and his men, trapping them on the ship, and securing the remaining vibranium so it can be returned to Wakanda. 

Since Ultron was a threat unlike anything any of them have ever seen, a purely tech-based threat, it was decided they needed to regroup someplace off the grid. They ended up at a partially constructed cabin in the woods near a lake. It was meant to be a someday gift for Pepper from Tony, so he swore everyone to secrecy as they filled inside. Needing time on their own to sort out what happened, the team goes their separate ways. Peggy walks down to the lake and stands on the shore looking out over the mirror smooth surface of the water. She finds herself once again grieving over the life she’d dreamed of having after the war, but she also finds doubts creeping into her thoughts of the present. Angie was out there somewhere, confused and alone, and what if Peggy couldn't find her? What if she finds her but can’t help her, can’t bring Angie out of the long dark winter she’s been living in for all these decades? Peggy has her compass in her hand, open, and her thumb gently caressing Angie’s flower. She’s so lost in her own thoughts and feelings she doesn’t hear him coming, but even though he catches her off guard she doesn’t jump. 

“Any further north and we’ll have to start calling you Captain Canuck.” Tony teases as he walks up to stand beside Peggy. 

Peggy doesn’t respond right away and when she does it’s to ask, “How are the others?” 

“Nat’s still shaken but she’s with Barton, so she’ll be ok.” Tony reports. “Banner’s quiet, not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but at least he’s not green. Thor took off, said he’d be back, left a hell of a burn mark that I’m not sure my landscapers will be able to cover.” 

“Did she get you?” Peggy turns to look at him, checking him over for injury or distress. Thor had explained to them that the dreams and nightmares they’d been force to see had been the girl’s doing. 

Tony shrugs. “Not this time, no. I think she might have whammed me before though, back in Sokovia. I don’t normally scare or rattle easily but…” 

“New York left you off kilter.” Peggy offers up. 

Tony nods. He hesitates, not really one for sharing his feelings and talking about human things. But there’s just something about Peggy that makes him relax, maybe it was her connection to his old man or maybe she might have reminded him a little of his mom. Whatever it was it made him sigh and admit, “I spent a lot of time not giving a shit about anything or anyone other than myself. Now I do give a shit, and when you give a shit about something, the thought of losing it scares the hell out of you, so you will do anything to keep it safe.” 

Peggy raises an eyebrow and then nods in agreement. 

“What about you?” Tony asks as he meets her dark eyed gaze with his own. “What deep fear or traumatic memory did the little witch make you see?” 

Peggy turns her gaze away from Tony to look at her compass once again. “Angie.” She admits. “And the life we should have had together.” 

Tony reaches out and puts his hand on her shoulder in a comforting way. “Damn kids and their wackadoo powers.” 

Those damn kids and their wackadoo powers end up helping Peggy in Hong Kong, which is where they’d tracked Ultron. Ultron had forced a Doctor Helen Cho into using the medical device she’d created, the regeneration cradle, which Tony explained was like a tissue printer, and the vibranium stolen from Klaue to make a new synthetic body. According to the children, twins Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Ultron was out to destroy all of humankind. The children didn’t want any part in that, they’d only been working with Ultron because he’d promised to help them avenge their parents’ deaths. Stark Industries had manufactured the bombs that killed their parents, they had been ten, and in the chaos that followed the bombings Hydra had taken them to be experimented on. That hit a nerve with Peggy. Just like Angie, these children had been turned into something powerful and then used and abused by the whims of men desperate for more power and control. Peggy wasn’t going to allow anyone to use these children that way again.

While Peggy kept Ultron busy fighting, Natasha and Clint managed to get their hands on the cradle. Meanwhile Tony had shut down the world wide web. No internet, no intricately weaved tapestry of technology, meant Ultron couldn’t just vacate his current body for a new one. He needed to physically escape Peggy and to do that he put hundreds of human lives on the line, knowing she wouldn’t let him kill them all. The Maximoff twins helped her save everyone, and just like that Peggy found herself rather attached to the twins. She liked to believe she was a fairly good judge of character, and her instincts were telling her these weren’t malicious people, just confused and manipulated children in a lot of pain. She takes them back to New York with her, tries to reassure them that Tony isn’t as evil as they think, and then reassures them that she will not force their options on him one way or the other. She just asks them to be open minded about things, and to be honest with her. 

She isn’t sure what to make of Vision, but she trusts Thor and he seems adamant about Vision being an ally. His hammer also seems to trust Vision, so Peggy’s willing to take the leap of faith that’s required in this situation. They end up back in Sokovia, and the fighting is brutal. Peggy tries her damnedest to keep the twins within her sights, not easy with Pietro moving around at super speed. Wanda is easy to keep close by, until she becomes the one to volunteer to hold down the fort so to speak. SHIELD shows up and Peggy helps get the Sokovian people on lifeboats alongside Natasha, Barton, and Pietro. When Barton and a small boy get pinned down by one of Ultron’s bots, Pietro runs in to help. Peggy sees the boy out of the corner of her eye and without thinking twice she calls out his name and throws her shield to him. Then she launches herself at the bot, taking its head off. 

“Pietro?” Peggy calls out as she flings the bot away. “Barton?” There’s a soft moan and Peggy rushes to it. She finds Pietro laying under her shield. “Pietro?!” 

Pietro moans. He’s been wounded, but he’s alive thanks to her shield. “Getting shot hurts.” 

Peggy lets out a breath as she starts looking him over. “Yes, my boy, it hurts like hell.” When she’s sure it’s ok to move him, she helps him up and over to the lifeboat. Wanda joins them and Peggy stands with the twins as they watch what little they had left in the world fall to its destruction.

Ultron is defeated, and just as Thor had predicted it had been Vision who’d finally put an end to him. They bring the children back with them. They don’t trust Tony, which is fine, Peggy can understand their feelings. He was indirectly responsible for the deaths of their parents. It would take time and patience for them to see Tony in a different light. They did trust her, Natasha, and Clint, so they took responsibility for them. They helped the twins acclimate and in doing so Peggy acclimated a bit more herself. Peggy also continued looking for Angie, following up on leads that Sam tracked down. It was frustrating, maddening, because she came so close more than once, but Angie was always a step or two ahead. But Peggy wasn’t going to give up, she would chase Angie to the ends of the earth if she had too. She would not abandoned her, not again, not ever again.


	13. Chapter 13

Annoyance flowed through Peggy like a river flows into the sea. Sam had a lead, a good one, but instead of leaving to help him follow up she was sitting in the conference room of the Avengers’ Compound listening to a blowhard of a man hand out hollow praise for saving the world, while also debasing them for everything that had gone wrong in that world since their formation. Thaddeus Ross was an arrogant, power hungry bully who had come to them with the misguided assumption that he would guilt them into accepting his complete authority over them. Peggy sat and listened, keeping her own temper and thoughts under control while sending microscopic singles to the others to wait, stay calm, don’t argue. Then when Ross gave her just the right opening, she smiled and spoke up. 

“We don’t have to be American based.” Peggy says in a clear, firm, tone as she looks the man in the eye. If he thought he could get Peggy Carter to submit to his so-called authority be it as the Secretary of State or a man, he was gravely mistaken. “I’m more than positive that the U.K. would be more than pleased to host us. As for ignoring sovereign borders, that’s rather the point is it not? The Avengers are here to help the world, Mr. Secretary, not just the United States. We fall under the same purview as SHIELD, a global entity, not restricted by governmental politics. We cannot, we will not, be used as a weapon wielded by one power to enforce or flex its superiority over another.” As she stands Peggy pushes the telephone book sized power play Ross had brought them back towards him. “We will not be your puppets, Secretary Ross. So kindly take your accords and your meaningless threats and leave.” 

Anger flashes in the man’s eyes and across his skin. “The United States…” 

“Like I said,” Peggy interrupts him. “The United States is not our only option here, Mr. Ross.” She drops his title on purpose. “How do you think the rest of your government would feel about losing the Avengers presence here? And what of the American people? Do you think you’ll be able to survive politically as the man who drove away the Avengers? Is your base, who thinks us vigilantes, bigger than those who see us as heroes? I think not, Mr. Ross.” 

“Now look here Ms. Carter…” 

“Captain Carter,” Peggy corrects. “I’ve met men like you Mr. Ross, men hungry for power, selfish, with dubious morals, you’re like a bad penny that keeps coming back, time and time again. Thankfully, there are more worthy people in the world than there are men like you Mr. Ross. I’ll make sure to give them your best regards at the United Nations summit. Now if you’ll excuse us, it’s time for you to leave.” 

Ross stood at the head of the table, eyes locked with Peggy’s, his hands bawled into fists that he pressed into the tabletop as he leaned forward in a threating posture. When Peggy didn’t back down, he growled, “You’ll regret this Captain.” 

“I doubt that, Mr. Ross.” Peggy replies. 

Ross leaves and the room falls silent for several minutes before Rhodey finally speaks up. “That was the Secretary of State of the United States.” 

Peggy turns her gaze to Tony’s friend and raises an eyebrow. “And?” 

“You can’t just talk to the Secretary of State like that.” Rhodey replies. “You can’t just throw him out and ignore what he has to say.” 

“I listened to every word that man had to say. He wants total dominance over the Avengers, he would use us as weapons against the U.S’s enemies, and withhold our aide from places and people who need us so he can use us as a political tool. I was chosen by the people in this room to lead, Colonel Rhodes, and while I will gladly hear out their options, I have made my decision. If you have an issue with that decision, you’re welcome to follow him.” Peggy tells the man, pointing to the door Ross had walked out of, but then she softens and warms, showing just how much she cared about her teammates and friends. “I understand you have a duty to the U.S. government the rest of us do not, Rhodey.” She shifts her gaze to everyone in the room and then back to him. “I will not allow any single power to collar and leash the Avengers to use as their personal attack dogs, I will not allow my people to be used as meaningless and disposable pawns in powerful men’s petty games.” She once again takes in the room as she finishes. “If anyone has an issue with that, thank you for what you’ve done, and there’s the door.” 

“You don’t own the Avengers, Cap.” Tony says, finally speaking up from where he’s sat quietly in the corner of the room. 

“No, I don’t.” Peggy agrees. “But you all asked me to lead, and that is what I’m doing.” 

“I’m with Peggy.” Natasha tells the room. 

Clint nods. “Me too.” 

The twins share a look and then Wanda says, “Pietro and I are with, Peggy, always.” 

“As am I.” Vision declares. 

“We can safely assume Thor would also be behind Cap.” Natasha adds in. “I’m pretty sure she’s the only one he feels is worthy enough to follow.” 

Rhodey looks at Tony. “Tony, man, you gotta see that Ross made some fair points. The Avengers need to be held accountable, and he is the voice of the government in this.”

Tony sat in the corner silently flipping through Ross’ accords, clearly lost in his thoughts. After several uncomfortable minutes for the rest of the team, he finally said, “He was right about us needing to be accountable.” He looks up and adds, “But not to him, not to a single government. I spent weeks telling Congress to kiss my ass, I wasn’t giving them my tech to use as weapons anymore. I made it pretty damn clear I was done making weapons of war. I was done with destruction and death. Iron Man is meant to help people, not wage war against them. The Avengers are meant to protect the world, the whole world, not the world the U.S. deems worthy of saving. But we can’t be a rouge group of essentially sentient weapons with no oversight either. What’s your play on that front, Peg?”

Peggy relaxed, giving Tony a nod of thanks. “We’ll reach out to the U.N. and work something out with them regarding checks and balances.” She looks at Rhodey who still looks like he wants to argue. “I understand your commitments to the U.S. Colonel, if you can no longer be a part of this that’s fine. We can leave War Machine on reserve or you can walk away. Either way, thank you for what you’ve done thus far.” 

The meeting breaks up, and everyone goes their separate ways. Peggy heads to her room to change so she could train with Natasha, the twins, and Vision. Her mind is busy, working out a dozen things at once, including what she’s going to say and do at the U.N. Summit. Training will allow her a moment to rest her mind, but just as she’s about to walk out the door her phone buzzes. It’s Sam. It looks like their latest lead has panned out. He needs her to come to Italy. Could this be it? Could this be the time she actually finds Angie, or just another dead end that leaves her heartsick and frustrated. She tracked down secrets for a living, she hunted down the most elusive people in the world before she was fully an adult, why was it so bloody hard for her to find one woman? Why was it so hard for her to find the one person who mattered most to her? When she finally gets to the training room, she makes a bee line for Natasha, pulling her into a corner to tell her of Sam’s message, and they instantly start making plans to leave. 

Back during the war, Angie would talk about how she’d always dreamed of visiting Italy, of walking along the same narrow roads her grandmother had as a little girl, of sharing special family places with the person she loved. Peggy had loved how Angie refused to count the times she’d gone to her family’s ancestral homeland on missions as having been to Italy, whenever Peggy would point out she’d been there already. “My Italy is lost right now, English, but someday she won’t be my enemy anymore, and then, I’ll show you the real her.” This was the first time one of their leads hadn’t taken them to somewhere in the Eastern bloc, and Peggy was hoping this meant that more of Angie was coming through the Winter programming. The Winter Soldier had spent the last half a dozen decades being a ghost, a myth, it could take years for Peggy to track her down. But Angie, Angie might make it a little easier for Peggy to find her even if she did feel like she needed to keep running. 

Finding herself strolling through the narrow streets of a small Italian village which is said to have been the inspiration for purgatory in Dante’s Divine Comedy, Peggy couldn’t help but think this was somewhat poetic. She had so often thought of her time in the ice as a type of purgatory, stuck in a void between heaven and hell for six decades. As she made her way to the tiny apartment they’d tracked Angie too, Peggy wondered if it felt that way for her too, and how painful it must be for someone like Angie who was religious, to live through. At least Peggy had been oblivious during her purgatory. How aware was Angie of the things Winter had been doing? A part of her hoped that Angie was unaware of the last seven decades, it hurt Peggy deeply to think of how it would affect Angie if she knew the truth. 

“Why do you keep looking for me?” 

Peggy stops walking. She’s in a walled, overgrown, courtyard not far from where Angie was living. Peggy had been shadowing her for days, not wanting to confront her without a plan. She didn’t want to take the chance of Angie slipping away again. The sudden voice came from behind her, confirming what she’d known for blocks now. Angie had been following her. “You know why.” 

“I’m not her.” Angie says softly. “I’m not that girl you think I used to be.” 

“You are.” Peggy says as she turns to face Angie, and it is Angie, she can see it in the other woman’s troubled eyes, and it makes Peggy’s heart skip a beat. Angie’s hair is long, passed her shoulders, and a darker shade of honey than it used to be. She’s wearing a dark red leather jacket, black jeans, and a black knit jumper. She could easily pass for any other pretty girl in the village, blending in, in plain sight. The Ruger LC9s 9mm in Angie’s leather gloved hand made her stick out a bit, sure, but seeing as they were the only two people around, no one but Peggy saw the weapon being pointed at her. “I know they messed with your head, Angie. I know they turned you into a controllable super soldier. I also know that Angie Martinelli wouldn’t give herself up completely, no matter what they did to her.”

There was a painfully long, incredibly tense moment where the two women out of time stood there staring at each other. They both stood perfectly still, their breathing measured and precise, flooding their bodies with oxygen just in case this developed into a fight. Though she didn’t have her shield, Peggy was far from unarmed, and Angie knew it. 

“You died.” Angie says, finally breaking the silence as she looks into Peggy’s eyes. “I heard them, I heard them say you were dead, I watched them celebrate your sacrifice. So, I... I went away.” 

Tears burned at Peggy’s eyes as she took a few cautious steps closer to the woman she loved. “Oh Angie, my darling, I’m so sorry. I had no choice. I had to ensure the Red Skull’s bombs couldn’t launch.” Peggy paused, and dropped her head for a moment to hide her eyes. “I searched for you, after taking Zola’s compound, I searched for you, but I couldn’t find you. I thought you were dead.” She looks up and into Angie’s eyes as she finally admits out loud for the first time since that moment in the cockpit, “I was given a choice in those final moments on the Valkyrie, and I chose the option I thought would reunite us.” 

“You loved her that much?” Angie asks, shifting back and forth between talking about herself as herself and as someone else. 

Peggy nods, still looking into Angie’s eyes. “I still love you that much.” She admits, and then holds out her hand. “That’s why I’ve been looking for you. Angie, darling please, let me help you.”

“There’s no helping her.” Angie’s voice goes cold as she shakes her head gently. Then her voice turns cold, harsh, losing the slightest hint of Angie’s accent that had come through just a few words ago. “This is my only warning, Captain. Stop. Stop tracking me, stop looking for me, forget I even exist. Go back to thinking Angie Martinelli is a dead war hero. It’s for the best, for everyone. If you don’t, you won’t walk away next time.” 

“I’m sorry, darling.” Peggy replies, as the hand hanging at her side gives the slightest of signals. “I’m not walking away from you.”

While Angie had been following Peggy, Natasha and Wanda had been following them both while Sam waited on comms as backup. Sneaking up behind Angie, Wanda uses her powers to knock her out cold. Peggy rushes forward, catching Angie as her body crumples. She holds her love in her arms, presses a kiss to her temple. “Safe and sound now, darling. You’re safe and sound, Angie, I’ve got you, my love.” 

They get Angie back to the quinjet and Sam gives her a sedative to keep her unconscious. Now that they had Angie, Peggy wasn’t entirely sure what to do with her. There were a countless number of agencies around the world that would want to arrest the Winter Soldier and put her on trial. There were governments who undoubtedly wanted her dead, and others who would want to use her just as Russia and Hydra had. Peggy couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow that to happen. Yes, the Winter Soldier had done things, horrible things that she didn’t fully comprehend, but Angie had no free will when Winter was in control. Before the full extent of the truth came out, Peggy needed to make sure people would understand the circumstances. She needed to get Angie help before they dealt with the Winter Soldier stuff. And until she could find Angie that help, she needed to find a safe place to hide her, that she wouldn’t be able to escape from. 

Allowing Wanda to get involved had been Natasha’s idea, one that Peggy hadn’t been sure about. She wanted to keep the Angie circle as small as possible. She also didn’t want the Twins being used as weapons the way they had been before they’d found them. Wanda and Pietro had a right to be children, free children who had a say in their own lives. While she wholeheartedly agreed they needed proper training, guidance, and supervision because they were children, children with superpowers, she wasn’t going to force them into service with the Avengers. The relationship that had grown between Peggy and the Twins was why Wanda wanted to help Peggy after finding out what Peggy had set aside to help her and her brother. The girl had brought Peggy a pretty fair and compelling argument, but it was the earnest desire to repay Peggy’s kindness and affection in Wanda’s eyes that finally got the flash-frozen old Brit to finally agree to accepting Wanda’s help. Having Wanda with her to whammy Angie had made this so much easier, so maybe, maybe asking those she trusted for a little help wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Tony,” Peggy says into her cellphone as she watches Angie sleep. “I need your help, off the books, it’s personal.”

After giving him a few vague details, they make arrangements to meet in California. Then Peggy calls Steve, and using coded phrasing, she tells him what’s going on. Peggy isn’t really surprised that Howard would have a private airfield on his palatial east coast estate, he had loved planes as much as he loved fast cars and sex. What surprised Peggy, and left her uncertain of how she felt, was the Hulk cell built into one of Howard’s old vaults under the mansion. Or to be more specific according to Tony, under the flamingo habitat built near the mansion. 

“I don’t understand,” Peggy says as she stands with Tony and Natasha inside the vault looking at the cell. “Why is this here? Tony, why do you have a Hulk cell?”

“Because Bruce asked me to build one.” Tony replies. “The only thing Bruce and the Hulk agree on is that they respect you, and that’s brokered some kind of begrudging peace between them. Bruce wanted a safe place to stash the Hulk just in case, and the Hulk agreed because he knows you wouldn’t want him hurting innocent people.” 

“Just in case of what?” Peggy crosses her arms and glares at Tony softly. 

“He loses control and rages out.” Tony answers. “Or he gets hurt and we need to hide him.”

Peggy lets her arms drop as concern floods her system. “Hide them from who?” 

“Ross has been after the Hulk for years.” Natasha says. 

“Why?” Peggy asks.

Tony half sighs and half growls. “To continue his experiment to recreate the serum or to eliminate any proof of his connection to it.” 

Reaching up Peggy pinches the bridge of her nose and grumbles under her breath before saying. “Ok, we’ll deal with that later.” The cell has been filled with a bed and other essentials Angie will need while Peggy tries to figure out what happens next. It had held both Loki and Thor, so it should hold the Winter Soldier just fine. Walking over to the bed where Angie now lay, Peggy crouches down beside her and brushes gently at her hair. “I’ll figure this all out, darling. I promise.” 

As much as Peggy wants to stick to Angie’s side, she can’t. She still has responsibilities to her team, and the world at large. Thankfully, Steve is no stranger to the Stark’s east coast mansion. In fact, he used it far more than Tony ever did, so no one was going to question him being there. The weather in New York was turning cold and nasty, and in his old age Steve often retreated to the warmth of California. He and Ruth Jarvis would look after Angie while Peggy was away. Sam stayed behind as well, and honestly, Peggy had no idea how she was going to repay him for everything he’d done to help her and Angie. With Angie safe and in good hands, Peggy and Natasha headed to Vienna and the U.N. Summit. 

Just as Peggy expected, the U.K. was more than willing to host the Avengers, even offering to give them a small island to use to build a new compound. Their ambassador relayed the Prime Minister's agreement that the U.S. should not have sovereignty over such a powerful force. Of course, the Commonwealth countries would side with Captain Britain. Other countries, like India, took some convincing given their histories with anything named Britain. Peggy explained that she was now Captain Carter, and about the changes made to her shield and uniform, using Coulson’s words about taking the ego of nations out of her work. She would owe Phil a steak dinner if this swayed votes their way. Peggy absolutely delighted in meeting the German Chancellor, commenting, “I find it very interesting, the countries who have had female leadership versus the ones who have not while I was away. I would very much enjoy speaking to you further on the history of women in global leadership, Chancellor Merkel.”

“You’re good at this.” Natasha whispers as she and Peggy make their way to another meeting. She was trying not to look too uncomfortable, but this really wasn’t her thing. 

Peggy smiles reassuringly. “I had to do a lot of what Howard called schmoozing during the war, but only to a certain point, I refused to cross the line that would have taken me into what Bucky called asskissing.”

Natasha smirked. “I wonder if Angie would agree that you never asskissed.” 

“You know what little girl,” Peggy replied while pointing a warning finger at the younger woman. “Respect your elders.” 

“Whatever you say, Grandma.” Natasha replies cheekily. 

The last time Peggy had seen T’Chaka of Wakanda he had been but a boy, and now, not only was he a grown man, he was an old man, and no longer a prince but the king. King T’Chaka stood beside a young man, the new prince of Wakanda as they entered the room. When Peggy stepped inside T’Chaka smiled and held out his hands to her, which she took gladly. “My my, Your Majesty, haven't you grown into a fine-looking king.” 

T’Chaka laughs. “Ever the charming one, Captain Carter.” He squeezes her hands warmly as he smiles. “It is very good to set my gaze on you once more, old friend.” 

“It’s good to see you as well, King T’Chaka.” Peggy nods her head respectfully. 

“This is my son,” T’Chaka says, indicating the man beside him. “T’Challa.” 

Again, Peggy nods in a respectful manner. She remembers from her time in Wakanda that greeting their monarchs was not the same as with her own. There was no bowing or curtsying or ducking one’s gaze. “A pleasure Your Highness.” Peggy replies before adding, “This is my friend and fellow Avenger, Natasha Romanoff.” 

T’Challa smiles as he shakes her hand. “The pleasure is mine, Captain Carter, Ms. Romanoff.” The Princes says before speaking directly to Peggy. “I have heard many adventurous stories of the Western Captain my Grandfather called an ally and friend. My people still talk of how you offered to give back your shield because it was made of our vibranium. No Westerner before or since has made such an offer.” 

Weapons weren’t allowed in the summit of course, and even though Peggy’s shield, in her hands, was a weapon, today it was a symbol. Reaching behind her she removed it from the mount on her back and presented it to the Wakandans. “I wish I could say I’ve taken the best care of it, but she’s recently had a run in with vibranium tipped bullets.”

T’Challa reaches out and takes the shield, moving it about in the light to look it over. “Easily fixed, Captain.”

“Yes, indeed. You would be most welcome in Wakanda, Captain. Repairing your shield is the least we could do after you secured the return of our stolen vibranium, and the capture of one of our most wanted criminals.” T’Chaka nods his agreement with his son’s observation of the shield. 

“I’m sorry I could not return all of it.” Peggy replies as she accepts her shield back from T’Challa. “What was taken from Klaue was turned into a synthetic humanoid body which is currently home to a sentient A.I. named Vision.”

T’Chaka nods. “Yes, we are aware of this.” 

T’Challa laughs softly. “It’s all my little sister can talk about. She would very much like to meet this Vision of yours.” 

They have lunch together, and even though she’s meeting with them about the Avengers, Peggy remembers how advanced Wakanda was, and she can’t help but wonder if perhaps they held the key to helping Angie. So, she asked, and T’Chaka gave her the first real substantial bit of hope since finding Angie that what was done to her could be undone. Of course, Peggy felt that bright, warm, piece of hope fall from her grasp as she feels her body being blown back from an explosion, detonated just moments after King T’Chaka announced that the United Nations had voted in favor of Peggy’s proposal which would allow the Avengers to operate independently but under the U.N. umbrella of peacekeepers, and against Ross’ Accords. 

It happened so suddenly and unexpectedly when Peggy stepped up to the podium following T’Chaka’s announcement that she didn’t have time to react. She takes the brunt of the blast, which sends her flying backwards, she crashes through the glass easily thanks to the force of the blast and falls. When Peggy wakes up, she’s in the hospital and King T’Chaka is dead, along with dozens of others. 

“On your left,” Sam says when he notices she’s awake. 

“Sam?” Peggy moans as she tries to move. It’s been a very, very long time since she’s been in this kind of pain. “What happened? Why are you here?” 

“Easy Peg.” Sam says as he stands and gently puts his hand on her shoulder. “Steve sent me to stay with you while Natasha started the investigation into the bombing. Everyone’s fine back home, so no worries there. You’re healing, but you took the blast full on and then fell several dozen stories, even super healing needs time to fix that much damage.”

“Ross.” Peggy half croaks out and half growls out the man’s name like a curse. 

Sam sighs while he shrugs. “Maybe, Nat’s looking into him for sure, but we can’t say just yet.” 

It wasn’t Thaddeus Ross, at least this time it wasn’t. The bomb was just the first play of a much more personal game started by Helmut Zemo, the son of Heinrich Zemo, the man who stabbed Angie and pushed her off a cliff into a ravine. The man who had taken Angie away from her had gotten to spend the rest of his life in Sokovia with a wife and a son and a grandson, living out the peaceful life she and Angie were denied. Heinrich’s past with the S.S.R, Captain Britain, and SHIELD caused him to flee instead of allowing himself, his daughter-in-law, and his grandson to be evacuated. They ended up dying for Heinrich’s cowardice and now his son was out to get Peggy and the Avengers in retaliation for their deaths. 

Peggy called in the rest of the team. T’Challa joined them as Black Panther so he could bring his father’s murder to justice. And together they began trying to work out what Zemo was up too. It was clear that Zemo was after something, something in Siberia? But what? 

“Let’s ask our resident Russian,” Tony said as the team tried to piece it all together.

Natasha just shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I don’t have a clue.” 

Peggy worried her lip for a moment before saying, “I know someone who might be a little more helpful.” 

The people in the room who were in the know all shared a look. It was Tony who asked, “You sure, Cap?” 

No, but what choice did they have? Natasha had been out of the loop for a long time and even before she defected, she wouldn’t have had the knowledge the Winter Soldier would have. She nods firmly, and then walks out of the room heading for the hanger. She needed to talk to Angie. 

Angie’s sitting on her bed when they walk in, her head lolled back against the wall, her eyes instantly on Peggy. 

“Angie,” Peggy says as she approaches the cell. “We need your help.” 

Angie listens though she doesn’t appear as if she is. Peggy is being careful about how much she’s saying, holding back details, holding back names. Finally, she gets to the question at hand, what could be Siberia that someone could use against the Avengers? 

“Alexei.” Angie says after a long pause and a shift of her gaze from Peggy to Natasha. “But he’s no threat these days. He’s gone soft in that gulag.” She pushes herself up off the bed and walks towards them. “There were others, none as successful as me, even Alexei fell short of what they wanted, which is why he’s now in a gulag.”

The name made Natasha tense beside her and Peggy wondered why, but she continued to focus on the matter at hand. “These others, they’re in Siberia?” Angie nods. “Can you take us there?” 

Angie’s eyes twitch ever so slightly. 

“Whoa, Cap, Peggy, hold on, is that a good idea?” Tony asks. “I mean, you said her head is all scrambled up, right? You can’t possibly trust her. What if she’s playing you right now? How do you know that’s Angie and not the ruthless killing machine?”

Peggy looks into Angie’s eyes and can see Angie looking back at her. 

“You were a living legend at your girls’ school because you broke into the headmaster’s house and stole his wife’s panties and a bottle of whiskey.” Angie says softly as she looks into Peggy’s eyes. “You’ve kissed Marlene Dietrich and Greta Garbo, Dietrich slapped you when she found out about Garbo.” Angie’s smiling, it’s her teasing, playful smile, the one she always showed off when she was trying to make Peggy blush. “I didn’t talk to you for almost a month.”

“I told you then, and I still mean it now, those two pence starlets couldn’t hold a candle to you, darling.” Peggy replies, a soft smile on her own lips. 

“There are six of them who survived the experiments.” Angie tells them. “I can take you to them, and you’ll need my help once we get there.” 

For several long moments, the pair just stare at each other until Peggy finally nods and walks over to the control panel to open the cell door. Tony isn’t sure about this; he’s worried about Angie turning on them. Angie walks up to Peggy and whispers something in her ear. Peggy’s raised eyebrow asks the question, but Angie doesn’t answer right away. First, she walks over to Natasha, and whispers to her as well. Then she looks at Peggy and says, “That phrase will shut me down.” 

“Don’t I get to know the magic words?” Tony asks, a slight pout on his lips and a lot of concern and uncertainty in his eyes. 

Angie eyes him up and down and replies, “I don’t know you.” 

“You don’t know Natasha and you told her.” He counters, unaware of the connection between the two women. 

Angie looked over at Natasha, tilting her head ever so slightly, “Is it Natasha now, little spider?” The redhead nods, and Angie smiles warmly as she continues in Russian. “I am glad you’re here, little spider, safe and sound. You even managed to find my Carter.” 

They make their way back to the quinjet where Angie heads to the cockpit with Natasha without a word to anyone else. Clint watches them, always hyper aware of things involving Natasha, and asks, “Who’s that?” 

“The Winter Soldier.” Tony answers before Peggy can. 

Clint jumps to his feet. “What? Are you shitting me?”

Peggy holds up her hands to stop any argument or debate. “That is Angie Martinelli, and it’s a very long story that I will explain when this is all over.” 

On the way to Siberia, Angie explains that the six soldiers were on ice because the serum used on them drove them mad. Well, she told Peggy and Natasha, the others were just background fixtures to her, that the six turned on the scientists and doctors, and that even she’d been injured in the resulting riot. The scientists who worked with the six were not a part of Karpov’s team, so they weren’t like Angie, they weren’t programmed like Angie had been. “They’re wild,” Angie warned them. “Feral. No control.” 

Surprisingly, when they arrived, they weren’t swarmed by the soldiers. In fact, the soldiers were still in their pods. Helmut Zemo greeted them instead. He had an old red leather-bound book with a black star on its cover and read from it like a Sunday morning preacher, taunting them with the truths it held, laying bare Winter’s role in killing SHIELD agents, and her involvement in Bucky’s accident. “Winter has completed her mission.” Zemo continues to read into a microphone from an observation booth above them. “Howard Stark is dead. His new serum is in our hands now.” 

Peggy isn’t sure who to look at in that moment; Angie, Tony, or does she continue to glare up at Zemo. She can hear Tony, “You murdered my father?” and she can hear Angie’s reply “Yes.” She can hear Tony’s suit move, power flowing through it, but she can also see tendrils of red power snake around the book, pulling it from Zemo’s hand and into Vision’s who appears behind him and then drops back through the floor. The sound of Tony’s suit powering up his repulsors gets drown out by Wanda’s accented voice. “Winter showed Stark mercy. When I asked her why she said, ‘He has a son.’ When I asked why that mattered, she said, ‘His son is an innocent child. Let him have the peace of mind of believing his father had a heart attack, that he did not suffer.’ When I said we show no mercy to our enemies, Winter replies, ‘The boy is not our enemy.’ We must continue adjusting Winter’s programming, continued shows of mercy will only lead to demands for her termination.”

When Zemo doesn’t get the Avengers to turn on one another, because Peggy calls for unity in the moment, reminding them who the true threat was, that Zemo unlike Angie in her past was acting of his own free will, Zemo lets loose the other super soldiers. Peggy and Angie shared her shield, fighting as one. Angie told them on their way there that these soldiers were stripped of their humanity, only now does Angie realize that these men and women had their minds and souls removed because she had been able to keep a small fragment of her own. She does them a small mercy, Winter’s only flaw it would seem, by putting them each down with a bullet between the eyes. When the fighting is under control Peggy follows T’Challa who went after Zemo, whom they arrest after they both have to face that revenge is not how this should end. Zemo should face justice for his actions, and they will ensure that he does. 

T’Challa upholds his father’s offer to help Angie. Peggy promises to explain everything to the team, to explain everything to Fury and whoever else has questions, after she returns from Wakanda. While the black star book contains evidence of the Winter Soldier's crimes, it also spells out that Angie Martinelli had no control over what the Winter Soldier was doing. Peggy will fight tooth and nail for Angie, and heaven help anyone who tries to take Angie down.


	14. Chapter 14

As soon as they land in Wakanda they’re taken to a medical center where Peggy and Angie are introduced to T’Challa’s sister Shuri and the medical team that will be overseeing Angie’s treatment. The first thing they need to do is map out Angie’s brain in a dormant baseline state, which means putting her back into a cryogenic coma. They’re given a few hours alone while everything is set up, time they spent together quietly reassuring one another that they were both real, that they were alive and here and together again. There were a few tentative touches, little confirmations of warm skin, steady beating hearts, and remembered reactions to a gossamer caress. It wasn’t until they received the message from the doctors that they were ready for Angie, that the two shared a gentle kiss that was full of promise and hope. 

Peggy never left Angie’s side as she was prepped and placed in the advanced cryo-chamber. They’re eyes locked as the chamber closed and neither looked away as Angie was put under. Only when she was sure that Angie’s eyes were closed, did Peggy finally blink and look away. She spoke to the doctors, who explained once more what would happen. After they mapped out Angie’s brain, they would start stimulating certain areas, triggering memories and emotions that would allow them to determine what was truly Angie, and what was the Winter Soldier programming. With that information they could then start deleting the programming, though they did warn Peggy that Angie would still remember being the Winter Soldier. Deleting the program would mean she could no longer be controlled, turned into a mindless weapon, and used against her will. Removing what the Russians had done to her would give Angie back her free will. Her memories of her time as the Winter Soldier would remain however, they would now be a part of who Angie was, that they could not erase. That’s where the psychologists would come in, and where the bulk of Angie’s recovery would lay. Peggy thanks the medical team and Shuri for their help and their compassion before seeking out T’Challa to do the same. He was taking a risk helping Angie, and Peggy wanted him to know she would do whatever she could to repay his kindness. 

T’Challa spoke of bringing Angie peace, but there wouldn’t be any peace for Angie with the actions of the Winter Soldier over her head. Armed with a declaration of sanctuary from the soon to be King of Wakanda, and with a heavy heart at leaving Angie behind, Peggy returned to New York, going first to Steve. 

“We always assumed it had been the Winter Soldier who hit the train.” Steve admitted from his recliner. “We could never figure out why Bucky had been spared though. Knowing it was Angie, there must have been some part of her that just couldn’t do it.”

“It’s why she couldn’t cause the scandal her masters wanted surrounding Howard’s death.” Peggy nods as she holds a mug of tea in her hands, allowing the comforting warmth to seep into her skin. 

Steve promised to help however he could by calling in some favors and owed markers. Natasha wanted to help as well, taking Peggy to a friend of hers. Matt Murdock was a lawyer, but he wasn’t an expert on international law. With Natasha’s permission he’d called in someone who was. Peggy of course was leery of them both, even though Natasha vouched for them. 

“I understand the position you’re in, Captain.” Jennifer Walters says as she sits with Peggy, Natasha, and Matt in the privacy of Natasha’s personal apartment. “In a very unique kind of way. See, Bruce Banner is my cousin, and people are always trying to blame him for what the Hulk does, but as it stands, at the moment anyway, Bruce and the Hulk are two separate people, one should not be accountable for the other’s actions.” 

“This isn’t going to be an easy fight, Ms. Walters.” Peggy replies after giving the other woman’s words time to shift through her thoughts. 

“No, but it’s a fight worth taking on.” Jennifer replies. “You are the only person who has shown both Bruce and the Hulk any kind of respect that is free of manipulation. Bruce would want me to help you in any way I can. Besides, I kind of owe you because it’s kind of my fault you’re without a Hulk these days.” 

This got both Peggy’s and Natasha’s attention. Peggy’s the one who asked, “How so?” 

“I think it’s my fault he took off.” Jennifer admits. “I was working a dangerous organized crime case, ended up getting shot, Bruce saved my life. Only, it came with some side effects.” 

Peggy and Natasha watched in shock and awe as Jennifer shifted into a tall, green, she hulk. That shock and awe doubled when they discovered that Jennifer was still Jennifer in this state. “How?” Natasha asked. “How are you still in control?” 

“Acceptance goes a long way.” Jennifer answers. 

Not everyone was so easily swayed to Peggy’s cause of helping Angie get her life back unmarred by her years of being used as a deadly weapon. Fury was furious. He wanted to know why he wasn’t told as soon as Peggy had an identity on the Winter Soldier, and Peggy was brutally honest with him. “Because you would have found a way to continue using her. Oh, don’t look at me like that, you did it with Bruce, you tried to do it with me, so don’t act all innocent. You have an agenda and are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through.” 

Everett Ross was an unlikeable little man Peggy was introduced to when he came barreling onto the Avengers Compound and attempted to order her to hand over the Winter Soldier for immediate arrest. At first Peggy was as polite as she could be about it, informing him that Angie had been granted sanctuary in Wakanda and was undergoing medical treatment to remove the Winter Soldier programming. “She’s currently in a cryogenic coma, Agent Ross. All legal matters regarding Sgt. Martinelli should be taken up with her lawyers. Ms. Walters is currently in the Netherlands presenting Sgt. Martinelli’s case to the U.N.’s Court of Justice.” 

“You can’t keep circumventing the rights of the United States by taking everything to the United Nations, Ms. Carter!” Ross argues, his face reddening. 

“Captain Carter.” Peggy corrects. “And I can, and I will, because believe it or not Agent Ross, the U.S. isn’t the only bloody country in the world. Now, do us a favor,” She indicted the rest of her team who’d been in the middle of something when he’d stormed in, “And piss off, we’re busy.” 

Tony leans in closer to Pepper as Ross storms off in a huff and whispers, “Might want to take up the U.K’s offer of land to build a second compound. Peg’s going to get us all deported.”

“The things we do for the person we love.” Pepper muses with a warm smile. 

Peggy knows that the Winter Soldier has done some horrible things, that some of those things directly impacted people Peggy cares about in the here and now. It was easier for Steve when it came to what happened to Bucky because in the end Bucky had survived in no large part to someone, Angie, battlefield triaging his wound. The person Peggy was worried about, the one whose thoughts and feelings she was concerned about, was Tony. He was her friend and she wanted so badly to make sure things between them were alright, but how could she possibly do that? The woman she loved, brainwashed, and lacking her own free will as she was, killed his father. 

“You’re up late.” Peggy says softly, finding him standing alone by the windows. 

“I think there are raccoons.” Tony replies, squinting out into the darkness. “We deal with way too much weird shit to have a raccoon problem. With our luck one of the damn trash pandas will eat something weird, and then boom we have a walking talking raccoon on our hands.” 

Peggy can’t help but smile at him. “Yes, I can see how that could end up being an issue. Especially since one of the children would end up wanting to keep it.” 

“And by children, you mean?” Tony turns to look at her when Peggy steps beside him. 

“Barton.” Peggy laughs. They stand there for a few moments, comfortable in the silence between them, and then Peggy sighs softly and says, “Tony, about Angie, well, about the Winter Soldier that is, and what happened to Howard…”

“Uncle Buck punched him in the face once.” Tony says, his voice low, firm, but not hard, just sure in what he was saying. When he feels her dark eyes on him, Tony continues, “The older the old man got, the more driven he was about the business side of things. Every once in a while, like with Ultron, he’d tinker with someone else’s work, or he’d obsess over the arch reactor.” He tapped the arch reactor in his chest and flashed her a small smile. “Which I can’t be mad at, because he helped me find the element that saved my life.” He paused, then went on. “Anyway, where was I, oh, yeah, ok, so, Dad lost out on some huge corporate deal to Hank Pym, which seemed to make the whole thing even worse because he and Pym had beef. So, he’d come home drunk, the less time he spent in his labs, the more time he spent in the bottle. Anyway, he came home drunk, continued to drink, and he lost control of his anger. He tried to hit me, Mom got in the way, and when Uncle Buck found out he stormed over and punched Dad right in the face.” 

Anger bubbled up in Peggy’s belly, tempered by a small bit of compassion and sorrow, because she knew how much Howard never wanted to be like his own father. “I’d have done the same.”

“After the old man died, my Mom, she started to thrive again.” Tony said with a warm smile and bright eyes as he thought about his mother. “She got clean, barbiturates, benzodiazepines, pills the doctors gave her so she could cope with being married to my father, and stayed clean. She taught music, and went back to playing the piano, and performing. When Obadiah Stane tried to get her to marry him, she told him to fuck off, I was so proud of her.”

“Your mother sounds like a remarkable woman, Tony.” Peggy says warmly, watching the emotion play out in his dark eyes and across his face. 

“She was.” He smiles. “And she only got better after Dad died, so, yeah, I miss the old son of bitch, all I ever wanted was to make him proud of me, but he wasn’t the best man to have in our lives. So, don’t worry about it, Peg. I’m not going to hold a grudge over something your girl had no control over doing. My Mom, she wouldn’t want me too.”

“The man I knew,” Peggy says, reaching out to put her hand on Tony’s arm. “The Howard I knew and loved, he would have been so proud of you, Tony. I know I am. You’re a good man, Tony, a good friend. I’m sorry if I haven’t been as of late.” 

Tony gives her a beaming smile. “Don’t worry about it, Cap. You were trying to save your girl, I get that, if it were Pepper, nothing would get in my way either.” 

Peggy is grateful as she makes her way across the compound to check on the twins, because she knows that if Tony had lost Maria, he would not be as willing to see the woman beyond the weapon, and this would all play out very differently. 

Natasha needs time to take care of something personal, Peggy offers to help, but the redhead insists that it’s something she has to do alone. Peggy sticks around so the team isn’t so short changed. Taking care of the twins, training with them, Vision, and Sam, kept Peggy busy and focused between updates on Angie. She also starts a bit of a recruitment drive, starting with the man who got past Sam, breaching the compound. Peggy would be there for Angie as she recovered, so she needed to make sure the Avengers could run at full steam whenever she or one of the others were away. They still had no idea where Bruce had gone, or what Thor was up too, so having a list of people on reserve was just a good idea to make sure they were able to do what they’d promised to do, keep the world safe. 

When Peggy does finally make it back to Wakanda she brings Vision and Wanda with her. Vision comes because Shuri is curious and quite frankly, so is he. He has become something beyond what Tony can explain, so he hopes to get answers from someone more familiar with vibranium and super advanced technology. Wanda comes because she’s formed an attachment not only to Peggy but to Vision as well and wants to be there for them both. Walking into the brightly lit medical treatment room where Angie’s cryochamber was, Peggy walks over and presses her hand to the glass. “I’m sorry I’ve been away so long, darling. The team needed me, and I needed to try to set things right for you beyond the safe haven of Wakanda. I’m not going to lie, darling. It’s going to be an uphill fight, your bloody country is being a pain in my arse, but Nat and I have put together a strong team for you. But that isn’t something you need worry about, all you need to concern yourself with is healing.” 

Angie’s medical team explains things to her, but honestly most of it goes over Peggy’s head. She was smart as whip before the serum, and after, her mind was even quicker, but Peggy had a feeling that even Tony and Bruce’s eyes would glaze over a bit as they tried to take it all in. What the doctors were telling her boiled down to, they’ve done what they can physically, repairing the damage done by the Russian’s programming, removing the pathways and connections that created the Winter Soldier. They needed to test their work now, which is the primary reason Peggy needed to return. They were going to wake Angie, and using what they’d learned from Karpov’s book, try to trigger the Winter Soldier. Peggy wouldn’t admit it, but she was scared. What if she couldn’t get Angie back without the programming? As long as there was a possibility of triggering the weapon within, Angie would be viewed as a threat, and not even Peggy’s good standing at the U.N. could make it safe for her to live a normal life. Peggy was scared, because if the advancements of Wakanda couldn’t bring Angie back to her, then what hope did she have of anyone else being able to help her? 

They would wake Angie in the morning after spending the rest of the day and evening preparing her body to function on its own outside the chamber once again. Until then Peggy would need to keep herself busy and out of the medical staff’s way. So, she headed to the bungalow she’d been given to stay in while visiting Wakanda. Stepping inside she was surprised to find Wanda sitting on a sofa using her powers to create an intricate looking piece of beaded jewelry. “Wanda?” Peggy says gently, not wanting to startle the girl. “Everything alright, duckie?” 

Wanda sets her work down on the low table in front of her and then looks up at the older woman with a warm smile and nod. “Viz and Shuri went super geek and trying to keep up was giving me a headache.” 

Peggy chuckled softly as she walked over and sat beside the girl. “I know the feeling.” Reaching out, Peggy gently tucked a lock of red hair behind Wanda’s ear while offering the girl the soft, warm, comforting smile Peggy had developed just for her and Pietro. “How are you doing, sweetheart? This is the first time you’ve ever been away from Pietro. Are you ok?” 

Wanda nods, then a few seconds later admits, “It’s strange, being so far away from him, but I know he’s safe with Clint in our new home, and that makes it easier.” 

“I’m so glad the two of you think of it as home now.” Peggy replies. 

“We think of you, Natasha, and Clint as home.” Wanda blushes as she admits this. 

Peggy caresses the girl’s blushing cheek. “I do the same thing, duckie. I’ve found my home in the people I love and trust since the war. Back then it was Angie, Steve and Bucky, and Howard. Now it’s you, Pietro, Sharon, Natasha, and the others.” 

“And Angie,” Wanda reassures. 

“And Angie, always Angie.” Peggy agrees with a nod. 

The next morning Wanda stands close to Peggy as they wait for Angie to awaken. The girl is there in case they need to subdue Winter, but also to support Peggy, and Peggy is grateful for that. Even if she does feel guilty for relaying on the child so heavily when it’s meant to be the other way around. Peggy was the adult who’d gladly accepted the responsibility of caring for the twins, she should be there for them to lean on, not the other way around. 

When Angie woke up, sitting up on the bed and staring ahead of her with a slightly blank expression, the recording of Karpov’s voice that Pierce used to control Winter was played. Angie blinked. Peggy bit her lip and then asked, “Angie?” 

Angie took a deep breath and then turned her head to look at Peggy. “Still me, Peg.” 

Relief hit her so hard Peggy’s knees wobble a bit and suddenly Wanda was standing just a bit closer to her.

After an hour or so of tests Angie’s psychologist smiled reassuringly as she said, “All of that physical medical stuff, that was actually the easy part, Sergeant Martinelli. Now comes the hard part, working through the trauma of everything that’s happened to you.” 

Peggy sees the twitch in Angie’s eyes and is quick to reassure. “It’s alright, Angie. It’s nothing to fear or be ashamed of.”

Angie relaxes a bit and nods as she returns her attention to the doctor. “Sure Doc, whatever you say.”

Wanda excuses herself by saying she wants to check in on Vision after the medical team leaves. Several awkward moments passed between them as Angie sat on the medical bed while Peggy stood just a few feet away watching her. When Peggy can no longer simply stand there, she walks over and reaches out to touch Angie’s face but Angie jerks away, and it stings. “I’m sorry.” Peggy had assumed, after the moment they’d shared before Angie went into the chamber, that Angie wanted this. “I didn’t mean…” 

“They could be watching.” Angie says softly, her eyes darting around even though her head is slightly lowered, her face hidden by her hair.

“It’s alright if they are.” Peggy replies. “It’s different now, in this time and this place. We’re safe here, Angie.”

Another awkward silence builds up between them. Peggy is suddenly very aware of every sound in the room, the flow of air across her skin, and the thudding of her own heart. She reaches up to fidget with the dog tags that hang around her neck, the soft clink of the metal drawing Angie’s gaze. There are two sets of two tags hanging from small ball chain loops, hanging from the larger ball chain around Peggy’s neck. 

Angie reaches out, her fingers brushing against Peggy’s as she takes the tags from Peggy’s grasp. She splays them out like a hand of cards, reading the stamped names, Peggy’s and her own. Angie rubs the pad of her thumb against the tag with Peggy’s name on it before letting the tags drop back to Peggy’s chest. “I meant what I said in that garden, Peggy. I’m not the girl who wore those tags, not anymore.” 

“Nor am I the girl these tags were first issued too.” Peggy replies. “I spent sixty-six years asleep in the ice. When I was awakened, I was thrust into a world I no longer understood, a world I never asked to be a part of. I found myself having to deal with the fact that for me the war had happened just yesterday, while for everyone else it had been decades. I spent the first few years of my return sitting on my anger and resentment over being brought back into a world without you in it, a world where Steve is an old man, and Bucky and Howard, and most of the Howlies were gone. I have fought in battles against aliens and gods, but worse than that, I have fought against arrogant men mad for power. Everything is different, and yet nothing has changed.” 

For the first time since waking up in that tiny room in a SHIELD rehabilitation facility Peggy laid herself completely bare, allowing someone else to fully see the extent of her emotional maelstrom. “I cannot truly compare what I have been through, to what you have been through. I spent the better part of our separation in a state of complete oblivion, while you, oh my darling, I can’t even begin to comprehend what you’ve been through.” Peggy steps closer, so close that she can feel Angie’s knees press into her thighs as she reaches up to tilt Angie’s head up so she can look into the expressive blue eyes. 

“What do you see?” Angie asks as she looks into Peggy’s eyes. 

“Anger and regret.” Peggy answers. “Pain and sorrow.” She raises her hands to gently hold Angie’s face in her hands. “But despite the darkness I still see the light that is you, Angie.”

Angie closes her eyes and sighs softly before leaning forward just enough to press her forehead to Peggy’s. She had a long way to go before she could even start to contemplate having a life again, and she would need to do that before she could think about Peggy being a part of that life. But for the first time since that fateful moment on a cliff in Europe with a world war raging all around her, Angie didn’t feel like she was drowning in the rushing, dark, icy waters that had consumed her since her fall.

Peggy will be what Angie needs her to be, will do what Angie needs her to do, as she heals. Which meant that when Angie asked for space, as much as it hurt her to do so, Peggy gave it to her. With Wanda and Vision in tow, Peggy left Wakanda but not without a few gifts from Shuri. During Peggy’s first visit, Shuri had agreed that the large blocky Stark watch Peggy wore was not in agreement with Peggy’s style or tastes. So Shuri made her a much more elegant watch with all the high-tech Avengers bells and whistles Peggy needed to stay in sync with her team. Shuri also gave her a beautiful, delicate looking beaded bracelet that used similar technology to T’Challa’s suit, to create an upgraded version of Peggy’s shield. A second companion bracelet, which Peggy would receive during a later visit, would give her a sharp bladed weapon. Okoye’s idea, according to Shuri, because what good was a shield without a weapon behind it. Peggy would laugh gently, smile, and reply, “I am the weapon, darling.” 

Peggy did her best to continue living the life she’d been building before discovering Angie was alive. She trained the twins, helped them adapt to their new lives, and argued with Pietro about needing a proper education. She and Sam continued working with the V.A. because helping vets would always be important to Peggy, working with veterans actually gave her more of a sense of purpose than being an Avenger, which she also continued to do. She stayed on top of things with Jen about Angie’s case, which needed to be handled carefully since they were basically calling out Russia for kidnapping allied soldiers. Karpov would end up being painted as a rogue agent with no ties to Russia, everything he did, he did on his own. Peggy worried a bit about how Angie would feel about that since she clearly had a complicated relationship with the man. Peggy also worried about Natasha. She’d gone completely off the grid, not even Barton had heard from her. Peggy hoped that Natasha knew that if she needed her, Peggy wouldn’t hesitate, she’d be there as quickly as she could.

Outside of work Peggy spent time with Steve, even accompanying him to visit James. She went rock climbing and to the shooting range with Sharon. Binged pop culture with Tony. Had tea with Coulson. Then after nearly six months of keeping herself busy she finally gets a message from Angie asking her to come see her. Peggy makes what arrangements she needs to with the team and work, and then heads to Wakanda as soon as she can. When she arrives, she’s more than a little surprised to spot Everett Ross as they make their way from the landing pad where she’d been greeted warmly and welcomingly by her friends. Peggy raises an eyebrow as she says, “You know he’s an American spy, right? Works for the CIA?” 

Okoye grumbles while T’Challa nods. “We are well aware of where his loyalties lay, but he did help defend Wakanda when we were under attack. Allowing him to be a liaison seemed like an appropriate thank you.” 

“Shuri told me about that,” Peggy says softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help when you needed me.” 

“No need to apologize.” T’Challa reassures. “Your purpose is out there, my friend. Protecting the world at large.” 

“Yes, but Wakanda is a part of that world.” Peggy replies. “Especially since you’re speech at the U.N. If you ever need me, T’Challa, I will be there to help.”

The king of Wakanda nods in acknowledgement of her offer and replies, “The same goes for me, Peggy. If you ever need our help, all you have to do is ask.” 

“You’ve done so much for me already.” Peggy replies. 

T’Challa smiles. “Speaking of, let's get you to our guest.” Peggy eyes Ross and T’Challa once again reassures. “He has no access to her.” 

“Thank you.” Peggy replies, unsure if she will ever be able to thank T’Challa for all he’s done for them. 

Angie’s living in a small bungalow on the outskirts of the city which Peggy finds a little surprising. Angie had always talked about craving the energy of a city and how badly she couldn’t wait to get back to that. There were a handful of chickens scratching at the ground as Peggy walked up to the door. She hesitated for just a moment before knocking, and when the door opened Peggy’s breath was taken away. Angie’s hair was longer, lighter thanks to the sun, and pulled back into a braid. While her hair had lightened, her skin had darkened to a beautiful bronze tan that under normal circumstances Peggy would have been jealous of. She wore a wraparound skirt and top in the local style, and sandals. When Peggy’s gaze finally met Angie’s, Angie was smiling in a way that made Peggy blush at having been caught so blatantly checking her out. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Angie replies softly. “I’m glad you came, Peg. I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too.” Peggy replies, taking a careful step closer. When Angie reaches out and pulls her into a hug Peggy finally let’s go of the breath she’d been holding since that moment on the rooftop. “Safe and sound, darling?” 

Angie tightens her hold. “Safe and sound, English.”


	15. Chapter 15

They spend a lot of their time simply talking. At first, they sit with some distance between them, Peggy on the sofa and Angie in a chair, or with Angie’s small kitchen table between them as they drink coffee, or have a meal, or share a beer while the sounds of warm nights filter through the open widows. Then they start taking long walks where they talk about their past together and their time apart. They get to know each other again, and slowly they start to really open up with one another. Angie talks about her memories as Winter, and Peggy about the nightmares that continue to plague her. Angie admits to having known Michael, but only as the Englishman, and in return Peggy tells her about James and his life as Steve and Bucky’s son. Angie talks about her time with Natasha when Natasha was just a girl, and Peggy talks about her twins with pride in her dark eyes and a warm loving smile. 

Then one evening after having dinner together in the city, they’d settled into the warm living space of Angie’s home, drinking wine and laughing at Peggy’s stories about the twins. Angie can’t help but reach out and cup Peggy’s face, brushing the pad of her thumb against the corner of Peggy’s smile. She’d had phantom memories of that smile. Peggy leaned into the touch, brown eyes locked on blue, and as Angie moved in to kiss her she set her glass aside. The kiss was tentative at first, but long held feelings could no longer be ignored. Despite supposed deaths, decades apart, and brainwashing, the core of how they felt about one another was still there. Peggy and Angie loved each other, still and always. 

Peggy’s scars were old, from her time as a spy pre-serum, and Angie knew them all. Angie’s however, were new, and Peggy wondered about each one as she traced them with fingertips and kisses, but she didn’t ask about them, not yet, perhaps someday, but not yet this was all still so fragile and new. There was one, however, the most pronounced of them, that Peggy didn’t need to ask about. Peggy already knew the scar on Angie’s abdomen was from Zemo’s German army issued field knife. That moment in the early months of 1945 had changed their lives forever, it had stolen so much from them, and Peggy struggled to smother her anger and pain. Not wanting Angie to see the angry look in her eyes or the tears welling there as well, Peggy dropped her head to Angie’s bare stomach as she clung to her love’s body. Angie didn’t try to soothe or pacify Peggy’s feelings away, she simply reached for her after feeling her lover’s tears fall onto her skin, bringing Peggy’s face up to her own, and kissed her. She held Peggy’s face gently in her hands as they kissed and raised the thigh that had been between Peggy’s legs, bringing her back to the here and now.

They don’t leave the bungalow for days. Before, Peggy had to be careful, mindful of the changes the serum made to her body, but now; now she and Angie were evenly matched and for the first time since they’d become intimate partners, there was no holding back. Their enhanced stamina allowed them to make up for their decades apart in a matter of days. Peggy is sitting on the floor, her back against the cool clay of the wall, Angie leaning back against her. Her arms hold the blonde close, Angie’s head on her shoulder, they’ve just managed to catch their breaths, each lost in the peacefulness of the moment. Peggy feels Angie shift a bit, and then the familiar dance of fingers grazing short, curly, coarse hair. She smiles as she reaches for Angie’s hand to stop her. 

Angie laughs, “Something wrong, English?” 

Peggy moans softly with just a hint of a whine. “I can’t,” She admits with a blush. “Too sensitive right now, love.” 

“I guess even super soldiers have their limits.” Angie teases, bringing her wandering hand up to rest on Peggy’s bare breast. 

Opening her eyes Peggy shoots her love a soft glare. “I saw you having a hard time sitting comfortably on the wooden chair as we ate this morning.” 

Angie laughs and it feels wonderful. She still had a lot to work through, a lot to make up for, but for now, naked and alone with the woman she loves, wrapped in Peggy’s arms again, all of that could wait. For the first time since that day overlooking the ravine, Angie felt like Angie, and she wanted to cling to that for as long as she could. 

Of course their time alone in the untouched beauty of Wakanda’s tamed wilderness could not last forever. In a moment of pure selfishness Peggy had turned off her Avengers commutator, stuffing the elegantly redesigned )thanks to Shuri) watch into a drawer, leaving her team no choice but to reach out to T’Challa directly. T’Challa, feeling the matter was urgent enough to disturb his friends, sent someone out to fetch her and Angie. When they walked into the room where T’Challa and the others were waiting, Everett Ross made a bee line for them. Or more precise, he charged towards Angie, finger up and wagging as if to scold.

“Angela Martinelli I presume?” The little man begins. “I’ve been…” 

Peggy raises her hand to silence him, her eyes on the Wakandans, her voice firm and commanding, her Captain’s voice. “What’s going on?” 

It’s a hologram of Tony that responds. “Sorry to cut your, hopefully happy, reunion short, Cap, but Banner’s back, and it isn’t because he wanted to come back.” 

Bruce appears, giving a nervous wave. It’s clear that they’re calling from a cell phone or Tony’s Avenger’s watch from the way Bruce shoves Tony out of the projection. Tony’s tech is advanced, but not Shuri advanced. “Hiya Cap.” 

“Bruce Banner,” Peggy growls at the man as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Where the bloody hell have you been?” 

“It’s a long story, Cap.” Bruce replies as he nervously rubs the back of his neck while looking sheepish at being scolded by their leader and his friend. “I’ll tell you all the details later, if there is a later. See, there’s this big, powerful, purple, cosmic trouble coming, and we don’t have a lot of time to prepare.”

Tony shoves Bruce out of the way, taking back control of the conversation on their end. “You remember those space rocks Thor warned us about?”

Peggy nods. “Vision has one in his forehead, Tony, of course I recall the powerful space rocks. Thor said they would bring danger like we couldn’t imagine.” 

“Yeah, Thor was being optimistic.” Tony tells her grimmly. “This Thanos guy that Bruce came to warn us about, he’s looking for these things, plans on wiping out half the known universe. Some bs about balance, but also something about impressing a woman.” 

“These stones have that kind of power?” Peggy asks, frowning, her mind working quickly to take in all of this intell and work out a plan. “To wipe out half the known universe?” 

A third man appears after taking Tony’s phone. “The Infinity Stones, Captain, are made of the very fabric of the universe, combined they hold the power to end all of it in a snap.”

The man is tall, dark hair with silver at the temples, and facial hair nearly as ridiculous as Tony’s. He seems to be wearing a red ornate, high collared cloak of some type over a blue tunic, with a large almost medieval looking leather belt and a large gold pendant resting on his chest. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

Tony’s voice calls out from the background as his head bobs up over the man’s shoulder as he points at the man. “He’s a wizard, Peg!”

The man rolls his eyes and sucks in a sigh. “Forgive me, Captain. I am Doctor Steven Strange, Sorcerer Supreme. It is indeed an honor to meet you. I tried to retrieve you for this little meeting just as I did Mr. Stark, but I can’t seem to reach your location.” 

Wakanda was protected against magic just as much as it was against technology, which is why Strange couldn’t simply appear in front of her like he had Tony and Pepper in the park. Apparently Tony and Bruce were with Strange in the middle of Manhattan, and the last thing they needed was to bring another cosmic level fight to the heart of New York. The compound could handle a massive fight, but there was still the possibility of it getting out of hand and people getting hurt. T’Challa offered the use of the land around Wakanda. Their shielding would protect the population, and beyond that shielding was nothing but space, wilderness that would survive the kind of deviation a fight of this magnitude would cause. Peggy agreed, telling Tony to gather the others. “Everyone, Tony, reserves too.” 

Natasha is the second to last of the original six to arrive at the Avengers camp set up outside the barrier protecting Wakanda, and she doesn’t come alone. She has two other women and a large burly bearded man in a Russian colored version of her old Captain Britain uniform. When he sees Angie his eyes widen and he charges towards her, Peggy moves to intercept but Angie signals her to stand down. Peggy watches as the man scoops Angie up in a bear hug that lifts her off her feet. 

“Baba.” The man says as he hugs Angie. He speaks in Russian as he continues, “Natalia said you were still alive! You sent her to find me! Our family is truly whole once more!” 

Angie returns the man’s embrace and laughs softly, “Hello to you too little bear.” 

“Alexei, put her down.” A dark haired woman with a shape tone says. “We are not here for reunions. We are here to fight.” 

When she’s set on her feet again Angie looks at the two women standing behind Natasha. She speaks to the dark haired one first, “Melina,” and then the youngest of them, a blonde woman, “Yelena. I’m happy to see you are both well.” 

Peggy quickly realizes that these were the children Winter had trained. She looks at Natasha and Angie, a silent question they both understand in that simple look. They give her the same non-verbal response. They can be trusted, for now, for what lays ahead. After that, who knows. Peggy nods and singles the original Avengers, minus Thor who still hasn’t returned, along with the Twins, Angie, and Vision, to join her Strange, and the Wakandans. Strange tells them about the Infinity Stones, their creation, and their powers, and just how dier their situation really was. They begin to formulate a plan, putting all of their resources in order, though Strange seems occupied with something else. 

“What is he doing?” Peggy asks T’Challa because he seems to have a greater understanding of Strange’s abilities than she could comprehend at the moment. Peggy didn’t excatally believe in magic after all, despite the years of working alongside Thor, who she still didn’t think of as a god. She didn’t doubt he was the reason for the legend, she just didn’t see him as a god. Gods don’t often drink beer while playing video games in cartoon duck covered pajamas.

Before T’Challa could reply, Stange came out of his trance and landed on his feet from his floating lotus position. “I was checking the odds of our success by checking all possible timelines of these events.” 

“And what did you see?” Tony asks. 

“In the fourteen million six hundred and five possible timelines I was able to see, the Avengers beat Thanos in only one.” Strange admits. 

“Well, those are crap odds.” Tony replies with a deep frown. 

“Yes, however, of those fourteen million six hundred and five possible timelines that I could see, Steve Rogers was Captain America, not Peggy Carter. Any timeline where Captain Carter was in the present day, it was as if anything that happens beyond this point has yet to be written.” 

Angie smirks. “My money is always on Peggy winning.” 

The last thing Peggy manages to do before the first wave of Thanos’ attack is place a call to Coulson. He had once told her about a woman Fury had met in 1995, Fury’s ace in the whole, his Hail Mary for when all the chips were on the table. If they ever needed her, it would be now, and Peggy made that clear to Coulson knowing he and Hill would be able to get Fury to reach out to her.

The skies above the wilderness outside of Wakanda soon fill with massive alien ships. According to Bruce, who is currently inside Tony’s Hulkbuster armor because apparently Thanos scared the Hulk so bad he refuses to come out, Thanos’ vanguard is called the Black Order. They would be the first wave, backed up by an army of Chitauri warriors. Peggy hears Clint groan, “Not these guys again.” Peggy smirks. “We beat them once, Hawkeye, we’ll beat them again.”

The fight against the Black Order and Chitauri army is brutal. The Avengers are quickly separated, each pinned down by a different member of the Black Order, but they are not fighting alone. Somewhere behind her and to her right Ant-Man grows into his giant form and Spider-Man swings from his elbow. She-Hulk was flinging alien soldiers the way a child threw tiny soldiers around a garden. Scarlet Witch torn through tanks as if they were made of paper mache. Chitauri flew into the air as if on their own, Peggy smiled knowing it was Quicksilver, while Wasp zipped from one enemy to the next fighting and firing her weapons. Black Widow and Angie were close by while Iron Man, War Machine, and Falcon fought in the sky above her head. Rescue flew support, helping to get the wounded off the battlefield. Hawkeye had found a perch to snipe from. Black Panther, and his Dora Milaje fought on the frontlines. Banner had been doing his best in the armor, but Peggy watched as he was thrown by the massive creature from the Black Order and disappeared out of sight somewhere in the forest. It felt as if they were on the verge of being overwhelmed at any moment, even with the Wakandan army and other heros at their backs. Then the sky crackled with thunder and lightning before a column of rainbow light shot out of the sky, taking with it a large part of the swarming Chitauri. 

When Thor stepped out of the light Peggy felt a rush of relief but that renewed sense of hope did nothing to soften her tone. “Well it’s about bloody time, Odinson!” 

Thor pouted sheepishly as he pulled Mjolnir from his belt with his free hand. His other hand held a large glowing axe that sparked with power. “I had to get my hammer fixed.” He replied, holding up said hammer and continuing to pout at Peggy’s stern look. “My sister broke it.” Then he smiled a wicked smile as he showed off the axe. “Also picked up something new and a few friends along the way.” 

Since waking up from the ice Peggy had to come to terms with things like fighting alongside a Norse ‘god’ and a large green rage monster. And after the Battle of New York she’d been pretty sure nothing would ever shock her as much as fighting an alien horde, but she’d been wrong. Because Peggy Carter now found herself fighting yet another alien horde with a sentient tree and a talking raccoon. Meanwhile a brightly colored blue and gold ship flew overhead along with a couple of quinjets, a few unmanned Wakandaian light fighters, and an armored woman on a pegasus were dogfighting with the alien ships. Surely this was as weird as her world could get, right? 

Wrong. Thanos was a massive purple skinned warlord in gold armor with unimaginable power. The Avengers lure Thanos away from the main battle easily enough since he was after Vision’s and Strange’s stones. They worked as a team, but he was powerful, and tossed them around like toys. He talked of bringing balance, of saving worlds faced with dwindling resources because of overpopulation, as Strange offers up the Time stone. He speaks of death as if it were a person, a woman he wished to impress with his love as he takes the Mind stone from Vision before dropping his lifeless shell to the forest floor. Peggy hears the wails of anguish coming from Wanda, the girl she had bonded with and grown to love as her own, and charges at the mad titan with all her might. 

There’s a moment when Peggy feels they’re on the edge of defeat, Thanos has just broken her shield, her team lays in heaps all around her, he has all the stones, and for a moment Peggy feels weak and hopeless. But then she hears Angie’s voice, Wanda’s cries, and the murmurs of the people she cares about all around her, and Peggy remembers she isn’t just fighting to save the world. She’s fighting for a new beginning with the woman she loves, a life with Angie that’s full of love, family, and friends. As Thanos’ Infinity Gauntlet fist comes down in what should be a killing blow, Peggy throws up her hands, braces herself, and stops him. It takes everything in her to hold him, she can feel every muscle in her body quiver and burn as she uses all of her power, her brown eyes blaze with determination as she looks into his shocked expression. Then just when she feels the first falter in her strength there’s a streak in the sky and seconds later Thanos’ ship explodes overhead. Thanos looks away for just a split second, and that’s all Peggy needs for what is surely a Hail Mary maneuver. When Thanos once again looks at her Peggy smirks, he blinks, frowns, and then throws her like a rag doll. 

“I tire of these games.” Thanos says as he raises his gauntleted hand and snaps his fingers. 

Nothing happens. 

As she struggles to her feet Peggy calls out in a loud booming voice, “AVENGERS!” She sways on her feet for a moment before finally steadying her stance. She’s looking Thanos in the eye as she reaches out with her left hand while the nano-vibranium shield Shuri made for her forms in her right. A hush falls over the battlefield moments before Mjolnir flies into Peggy’s hand. Thor cheers with glee, proclaiming he knew she was worthy all along. Peggy, gaze still locked with Thanos, finishes, “ASSEMBLE!” 

There is an eerie smile on Peggy’s lips as she wields Mjolnir and brandishes her new shield. She’s waiting for him to notice, waiting for Thanos to see what she’s done. It had been Tony’s idea, a passing comment about ways to remove the stones from the gauntlet. She had no idea if it would work or not, but it had. There was now a bit of added adornment to her symbol. There’s an Infinity stone set into the tips of the star, with the soul stone placed at its center. 

Thanos lowers his hand to look at the back of the gauntlet to see for himself that the stones are gone. The power of his rage shakes the ground as he roars but it's nothing compared to what happens next. Peggy begins to swing Mjolnir why the strap with all her might, the faster she twirls the hammer the more power it crackles with. For a moment it looks as if she’s going to throw it at Thanos but that isn’t what she does. Peggy throws her shield first, and then she throws the hammer at the shield. The magic of Thor’s hammer, striking the power of the stones, atop the technology of her shield, shatters the stones, sending out a powerful shockwave. Thanos is brought to his knees and Peggy Carter continues to smirk at him as she falls to the earth before the world goes black. 

The darkness lingers but at the edges of it there’s sound, a voice, singing, a familiar song. It’s Angie’s voice. Angie singing softly in her ear. “The way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea, they can’t take that away from me.” Peggy moves towards that voice and as she does her body twitches, fingers flex, she can feel something in her hand, warm and familiar, Angie’s hand. Peggy squeezes Angie’s hand just as she sings, “The way you changed my life, they can’t take that away from me.” 

“English?” Angie’s voice cracks as she watches Peggy begin to stir. Tears burn as they begin to well in her eyes. “Peggy? Peggy, hon, come on baby, come back to me.” 

When Peggy opens her eyes she is greeted by the most beautiful sight, Angie’s face. She smiles. “‘Hello love.” 

“Don’t you ‘hello love’ me like you’ve just woken up from nap, Margaret Elizabeth Carter!” Angie says as she helps Peggy to sit up. “You nearly died! You’ve been comatose for nearly three months!” 

Peggy blinks and then looks around. They’re in a room full of high tech medical equipment. The tech and decor tell her that they’re clearly still in Wakanda. When she turns back to look at Angie she smiles a sheepish smile, “Did we win?” 

“You know if I slap you now it’s actually going to hurt.” Angie growls at her before nodding. “Of course we won, you heroic idiot!” 

Angie won’t tell her what happened after she smashed the stones until after she’s been cleared by a doctor. She felt like she’d been smashed between two trucks that had been on fire when they hit her, but she was recovering nicely, and now that she was awake she’d recover more quickly with the proper nourishment. As soon as the doctor left, the twins arrived, and Peggy found herself engulfed in their combined embrace. Wanda was trembling as he clung to Peggy, and it hurt Peggy’s heart to feel it. “It’s alright darling. I’m alright.” She reassured them both even if her words were aimed at Wanda. “I’m so happy you’re both ok.” 

After binging on the calories she needed to refuel her super soldier physiology, Peggy and Angie head out to the battlefield alone. As they go Angie begins telling her what happened after she blacked out. The streak in the sky Peggy had seen had been Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel, Fury’s ace in the hole. Of course Peggy wanted to know all the details, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, but before she could focus on that she needed the big question answered first. “What happened to Thanos?” 

Angie hesitates for a moment but then answers, “Wanda.” 

Peggy blinks, her gaze locking onto Angie’s profile as she drives them out to the battlefield. “Wanda?” 

“She thought he’d killed Vision, she was already in a lot of pain, and then when she thought he’d killed you too,” Angie shakes her head and sighs softly, remembering her own feelings of disbelief, fear, and anger in that moment. “That kid of yours has unimaginable power, Peggy, and when you shattered the stones, well, Strange said the release of their energy gave everyone whose powers were even remotely affected by them an omega level super charge.” She paused again as they arrived. Turning to look at Peggy she continued, “Wanda, in her emotional state, lost control. She turned him to ash, Peg, him and everyone with him, poof, gone, nothing left but ash.”

“Oh Wanda.” Peggy replies, her concerns and fears for the girl written across her face. 

“We made sure to get her the help she needs, Peggy.” Angie reassures. “A therapist for the emotional stuff, and Strange is going to help her with her powers.” Angie reaches for Peggy’s hand and holds it tight. “Having you back will help a lot, I think. That girl adores you, Peg.” 

“And I her.” Peggy admits while making a silent vow to be there for Wanda and Pietro more, to make sure they have everything they need to heal and be healthy. 

Though the ravages of war had been cleared away while she was comatose, the land still bore scares. Peggy stood on the battlefield and shivered as she replayed the story told to her in her mind, watching it play out in front of her through the eye of her imagination. Wanda hadn’t been the only one to unleash her powers in that moment when it appeared Peggy had been killed. The land bore the scorching marks of Thor's power, the scars of Hulk’s rage, and Tony’s sorrow. Their enemies had borne the brunt of Natasha’s disbelief. “Barton’s pissed at you.” 

“What?” Peggy shakes off the images flooding her mind and turns to look at Angie. “Why?” 

“The shockwave you caused trashed his hearing aids.” Angie tells her. “The feedback knocked him out for a couple hours and then he had ringing in his ears for weeks.” 

Peggy wasn’t the only one recovering from the war against Thanos. Shuri had built a new body for Vision and had used the backups she’d created to restore him. It was a little strange, he appeared to be younger now, closer to the twins age, and he had some gaps in his memory, he almost seemed like a younger teenage version of Vision. At some point during the battle Bruce and Hulk had finally found balance, and he could now shift back and forth as easily as his cousin. Said cousin was now the Avengers official lawyer. “Some asshole named Hayward tried to claim that Vision was the property of the U.S. government. Jen argued that the hardware belonged to Wakanda and the software belonged to Mini Howard.” Angie had explained. “This Hayward is going to be a problem.” 

Peggy didn’t want to think about problems, she didn’t want to deal with any more of that hero nonsense, but she knew deep down she would go back. Despite how much she just wanted to stay in Wakanda and live out a peaceful life with Angie, she knew her work wasn’t yet finished. The world and the Avengers still very much needed Captain Carter, despite what Peggy Carter wanted. 

“I’m coming back with you.” Angie tells her as they lay together in Angie’s bed as the afternoon sun warms the day even more. 

“What?” Peggy replies as Angie’s declaration stops her absentminded caresses over Angie’s flushed skin. “Angie, is that safe? The U.S….” 

“Doesn’t want it known that they had allowed, knowingly or not, Russia to capture, keep, and experiment on an American POW.” Angie shifts so she’s laying across Peggy, braising her elbow against Peggy’s shoulder before resting her head in her palm. “Secretary of State tried like hell to get me sent to the Raft, but he didn’t stand a chance against Jen and the power of her law firm. I think her boss made him piss himself.” Angie laughed as she idly circled a finger around Peggy’s areola. “I’m not free and clear, and I shouldn’t be. I did things Peg, horrible, unspeakable things that I shouldn’t get off scot free for doing. The U.N. has put me on an indefinite probation under the jurisdiction of the Avengers.”

How did Natasha put it? There was red in her ledger that she was trying to clear away? Angie had the same desire for absolution and Peggy would do whatever it took to help her get that. “I love you, I always have darling, and I always will.” 

“Knowing that is the only reason I didn’t let them just toss me in the Raft.” Angie admits. “If you’re still willing to love me knowing what I’ve done, then I guess I’m not a complete loss.” 

Peggy reaches for Angie and pulls her in for a kiss. 

Angie smiles softly. “I love you too, English.”


End file.
